


Tempus Fugit

by Darkshines1984



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 78,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkshines1984/pseuds/Darkshines1984
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.  Basically I liked the chemistry inside Wentworth and wanted to play with it a little while longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 1**

 

**_Franky POV_ **

 

As Franky gradually slipped into consciousness she became aware of her dark, stale smelling and uncomfortable surroundings. He cell at Wentworth wasn’t exactly luxurious but it was nowhere near as grim as her current sleeping arrangements. She was in the slot. Instead of waking up in her cell and getting ready to walk out the prison gates she was in solitary confinement, her parole totally fucked for god knows how long and all because of that freak Ferguson. Well maybe it wasn’t all Ferguson’s fault. It had started when Jess, the little psychopath, had snatched little Josh under Doreen’s sleeping nose and pissed off into the depths of the prison with him.

Franky wasn’t really sure how it had all came about but a fire had been started in the storage area under the kitchen. She was convinced the Freak had set the fire although burning down your own prison didn’t exactly make much sense. Perhaps it had been Jess who’d actually set the fire when Ferguson had confronted her. Either way Jess Warner was, as far as Franky knew, the only person unaccounted for after the fire. It was likely she was dead and Franky couldn’t bring herself to care.

When Bea had asked her to help look for little Josh she had gone without question. It would have been easy to follow everyone else outside to safety and convinced herself there was nothing she could have done to help. She had been convinced for days Ferguson was going to find a way of bumping her off or screwing her parole which in a way had numbed her to the risks of staying in the burning building. Plus it was the right thing to do. Ferguson had fucked Nash‘s parole leaving Doreen without the support of her baby’s father. How could Franky let her lose her baby as well? And maybe, just maybe she saw it as a real shot at redemption because deep down she hadn’t believed she had really earnt her parole. Now at least she felt like she had earnt it even if it had been fucking revoked.

She hadn’t considered that there would be consequences to disregarding procedure, disobeying the screw’s and staying in the burning building. It wasn’t like she had expected a hero’s welcome for her actions…she just hadn’t really expected to survive to live the tale. Surviving didn’t seem like a reward at all now she was probably stuck in Wentworth for the rest of her sentence.

After becoming accustomed the dreary light of the slot again Franky sat up on the bed and instantly regretted it. Her head throbbed, her throat and chest were red raw from breathing in all the smoke and her body felt like a freight train had hit it. She began to cough violently and she stumbled to her feet to try and get a tumbler of water to ease the choking feeling. With every cough she felt progressively dizzier and she barely managed to fill the glass with water from the sink before sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor with her legs stuck out in front of her.

She felt like shit and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. It was in stark contrast to her original plan of exiting Wentworth, seeking out Bridget Westfall and fucking her fucking senseless…or something slightly more romantic. Now she didn’t know if she’d ever see the beautiful psychologist again. The blonde no longer worked at Wentworth and with Franky’s stay in the women’s correctional facility now likely to run for another two years she hardly expected Bridget to wait around for her. The fact the older woman was currently single was remarkable enough but Franky couldn’t picture it staying that way. Some lucky bitch would snap Bridget up whilst Franky lost hope and rotted away in this dump.

She had known nothing that good could ever really happen to her, something was always going to fuck up and stand in the way of her happiness. Ever since she had been a child life had this remarkable way of shitting on her. Not even the knowledge that the Freak was carted off to be incarcerated somewhere could brighten her mood. All she could think of was the burning in her throat and the burning in her chest…both figuratively and literally.

Just as she was feeling particularly sorry for herself heavy footfalls echoed down the corridor. They were the footsteps of a man, obviously one of the screws, and the stopped outside her door. After a few seconds the door opened and Mr Fletcher entered carrying a tray. He regarded her as she sat slumped on the floor. The guy was swimming across her blurry vision but she could still see the look of pity on his face. Usually it would piss her off but this morning she didn’t have the energy to care.

“Doyle” he greeted politely, “I come bearing painkillers and breakfast.”

He bent down and placed the tray next to her before handing her the little plastic cup with whatever painkillers in the medical staff had saw fit to give her. She accepted them silently, afraid she would choke again if she tried to talk. After tossing back the contents of the cup and swilling them down her throat with water she turned her attention to breakfast. The kitchen area had been pretty much destroyed so she knew it wouldn’t be the usual prison issue cooked breakfast. They were probably having to have cold food shipped in as an emergency so she expected to see cereal or some sort of continental pastry. Instead she found she had what looked like beans and egg which had been put through a blender. There was also a tumbler of milk.

“It doesn’t look very appealing but apparently it should be easily palatable” Mr Fletcher explained at her apparent look of disgust. He had remained bent down next to her whilst she had taken her tablets but now rose to his feet.

Franky managed a tight smile and nod in his direction, acknowledging the fact he was trying to be sympathetic towards her. Mr Fletcher had never had much time for her and she’d always found him pretty miserable even for a screw but she had to admit he’d been more pleasant in general since he’d gotten T boned by a van.

“I’ll ask for the nurse to come and see you” he finished before backing out of the room.

The door swung shut again with a loud echoing thud which did little for Franky’s pulsing headache. She listened as his steps echoed down the corridor, gradually getting further and further away until there was only silence again. The smell of the liquefied food sat alongside her made her feel like she was about to wretch so she shuffled away from the tray until she reached the bed. It took a monumental effort to stand up again and when she did it was only long enough for her to collapse back on the bed. She was asleep again within minutes.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

It was quite a cool crisp day but it was still and dry so Bridget had left the roof of the convertible off. She’d always wanted a Porsche Boxter but never been quite flash enough to purchase one despite a considerable amount of savings stashed away after her parent’s deaths. It was only after hearing Franky’s ideal leaving scenario that she finally splashed out and upgraded to the car of her dreams.

The drive from her home by Fitzroy Gardens to Wentworth wasn’t too long and one she had become accustomed to in her time employed at the correctional facility. It felt like a very different journey today even though it was only an hour after she would normally have left for work and the roads were still busy with morning commuters. She wasn’t driving to a day of work she was driving to the place she would be picking up the most intriguing and beautiful woman she had ever met from.

The brunette inmate had taken her breath away in the first instant she had seen her but it was Franky’s charisma and cheeky charm that had ultimately been Bridget’s undoing. She had fallen so head over heels in love with the inmate that she had resigned from a job she adored just to protect the younger woman. Now Bridget was hoping she hadn’t misread the situation and that Franky would be as happy to see her as she was at the prospect of seeing the brunette.

The younger woman was obviously a natural flirt so Bridget hadn’t read into the banter too much the first couple of comments Franky made in her direction. It was quickly apparent though that they did have a connection that simmered away, barely kept below boiling point by the professional nature of their relationship. Bridget had been determined that nothing could happen whilst at Wentworth especially when they were patient and therapist. Luckily Franky had respected her enough to keep some sort of distance although the inmate had pressed against the boundaries at times. The closest they had come to overstepping the mark had been in between the stacks in the library when the brunette had practically bounced up and down in an attempt to redirect her energy and restrain herself from kissing Bridget. For her part Bridget was sure that if she had dared open her eyes and looked at the inmate whilst soft lips were hovering so close to her own she’d have given in. As it was she had hung on to her decorum by a thread.

The drive was nearly complete and it wasn’t until she pulled in to the secondary staff car park just a hundred yards down the road from the staff entrance that she realised something was amiss. There were far too many cars parked in what was basically a guest and overspill car park for nine in the morning. It was only usually this full on weekends when there were visiting hours. One of the things that stuck her immediately was that some of the vehicles were vans with antennas on. That meant the media was at Wentworth and that could never be a good thing. She parked the Porsche up and got out, walking on foot down the last stretch of road despite her previous plan to sit in her car and wait. If something had happened and there was a media storm brewing they were highly unlikely to release Franky into the middle of crowd of journalists. 

Ahead of her, by the gates, she could see around twenty people gathered. Some had Dictaphones, some had cameras and there was even the odd video camera present. She was so busy looking ahead at the crowd of people that she didn’t even register the car passing her on the road until Derek Channing climbed out of the passenger seat of the vehicle only yards in front of her. The car rolled on and he silently pushed through the crown of inquisitive journalists, ignoring their questions. Bridget pushed through after him and was right behind him by the time her reached the gate. Ahead of them she could see Vera Bennett waiting just behind the main gate to let him in.

“Derek” Bridget called out, determined to find out what the hell was going on.

He turned back to look at who had called him by his name and looked surprised to see her. As she had resigned it was no wonder he looked confused by her presence but she didn’t give a flying fuck what he thought about her sudden reappearance right now. She had a terrible feeling in her gut and she needed reassurance that Franky was okay. It would be just like Ferguson to pull some sort of shit to prevent the inmate’s release. Bridget was damn sure the Governor had tried to fuck up her parole hearing and that’s why Franky had been so ill on the day.

The gate opened before she had a chance to speak and Vera ushered both of them through the first two security gates so they were out of sight and out of ear shot of the media. The second they were behind the second gate Vera grasped Bridget’s arm preventing her from going any further.

“I’ll follow you inside” Vera instructed Channing. He nodded and walked on towards the main building.

Despite the fact she was stressing about what the hell was going on Bridget instantly picked up on something strange. Miss Bennett had said she would follow him inside…not that the Governor was inside. That implied that Vera was currently in charge of the site as acting Governor. Had Ferguson not arrived yet or had shit hit the fan and the psychopath’s reign of terror had ended? Bridget knew Vera had gone to the board about Ferguson because she had received a call asking for her to attend a meeting in two days’ time to back up Vera’s claims. That being so the board wouldn’t act until the claims could be substantiated and it certainly wouldn’t cause a media circus like this.

“Vera what the hell is going on?” she asked as soon as Channing was far enough away not to hear their conversation. Vera glanced sideways to check he truly was paying them no mind before beginning to talk in a hushed voice.

“There was a fire last night” the prison officer explained. “We think Ferguson started it but we can’t prove anything yet. An inmate is dead.”

Bridget’s heart felt like it was plummeting in her chest and she struggled to take in oxygen. That terrible gut feeling she had been feeling since seeing the extra cars now felt like it was suffocating her.

“Franky?!” she managed to splutter out. She was unsure if she wanted the answer or not.

“Doyle is okay” Vera assured her. The hand resting on Bridget’s arm to prevent her moving any further now squeezed gently in reassurance. “She’s a bit bashed around but there will be no long lasting physical effects.”

Bridget felt all that tension in her chest release and she slumped back against the concrete outer wall. The prison officer released her arm and stood silently in front of her, her head dipped so that Bridget couldn’t see her expression. Years of training and experience told Bridget via the other woman’s tense body language that she hadn’t been told the full story yet and that it wasn’t all good news. Well obviously it wasn’t all good news anyway as someone had died but this was obviously specifically relating to Franky Doyle or Vera wouldn’t look so sheepish. 

“So is she still getting released today or have you had to delay it?” Bridget finally asked. She supposed that if Franky was in medical that would delay her release and the staff probably had to use their resources to deal with the crisis today not sign off release forms and procedure. She had waited this long…she could cope with waiting another day or two.

“Bridget….her parole has been revoked” Vera responded slowly.

With just a few words the prison officer sent Bridget’s world back into a spin again. The reality of the situation came crashing down upon the blonde and she found herself sliding down the wall and sitting on the pathway in front of the other woman. If Franky’s parole had been revoked then she would have to see out the rest of her sentence. That would mean a further two years at Wentworth for the inmate. Bridget knew how bored and dispirited Franky was becoming at being incarcerated and she couldn’t imagine how the fuck the younger woman would cope for that period of time without cracking up. She didn’t know how the fuck she would cope with only being able to see the brunette once every week or two during visiting hours.

“She and Smith stayed in the building despite being ordered out because Anderson’s baby was still inside” Vera began to explain after a brief silence. “It not only broke regulations but there is also no way to instantly count either of them out of the having something to do with Warner’s death until the forensics come back with answers.”

Everything felt and sounded so hazy as she struggled to find her composure again. Bridget could hear the other woman talking at her but it was taking her longer than normal to actually process the words. When she did finally realise what Franky was being accused of she managed to snap herself out of her daze and haul herself back to her feet.

“She wouldn’t…” Bridget began to fervently defend the woman she had fallen in love with but Vera raised a hand and stopped her in her tracks.

“I know that” the brunette snapped irritably. Bridget looked apologetically at the obviously stressed woman stood in front of her. They had fell in to a tentative trust because of the Ferguson situation and if Franky was stuck in Wentworth for a while longer then Bridget needed to keep this woman on side.

Vera rubbed her hands over her face roughly which was yet another sign that she was carrying a lot of stress. She glanced towards the main building into which Channing had long since disappeared before letting out a deep sigh and returning her focus to Bridget.

“I need to go sort this shit storm out and you need to get the hell out of here or people will start asking awkward questions. I’ll call you later okay?” 

Bridget nodded silently in response. The fact Vera was offering to keep her in the loop was more than she had the right to ask for. It pained her to walk away knowing Franky was probably either in medical or in isolation just a hundred or so feet away and she could even see her to give some sort of comfort. Yet there was no other choice but to go home and wait for news. She didn’t even hear the questions the journalist were firing her way as she walked past them, nor did she even really register the walk to her car. It was only when she reached the relative safety of the Boxter’s leather driver’s seat that the emotions came pouring out. She crumpled forward against the steering wheel and the tears ran until her eyes stung. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 2**

 

**_Franky POV_ **

 

It had been a long time since Franky had sat in one of Wentworth’s interview rooms. They were mainly used for visits from inmate’s legal representatives and Franky hadn’t bothered with any of those ever since she started studying law. Now she found herself sat in one due to the most unpleasant of circumstances. A police interview.

Franky’s head felt like her head was spinning. It still wasn’t even twenty four hours after the fire and she felt rough as hell. She’d given a brief statement to the surly looking bearded Inspector and his equally miserable looking female Sergeant but apparently they were determined to treat her like a suspect.

“Did you see Jessica Warner when you and Bea Smith entered the service hallway?” Chief Inspector Wilson asked for what must be the third time.

“No! For fucks sake I have told you time and time again” Franky responded, irritation lacing her voice. She raised her hands in frustration only to have one roughly jerked back down by the handcuffs that were attached to the table between them.

“I arrived in the corridor after Bea. The only two people who were there was Bea and Ferguson and they were both down on the ground after the explosion. Bea had hold of little Josh and I helped them up. Part of the ceiling collapsed and blocked the door from opening. I kicked the grill out and Bea and Josh climbed out but then more of the ceiling caved in blocking me off from the door again. I was left stuck in the corridor with Ferguson.”

She couldn’t understand what they were finding so hard to comprehend. Franky had a perfect view down the corridor when she first arrived because at that point no rumble had fallen. That crazy bitch Warner hadn’t been there either dead or alive. Why the hell did they think she’d want to kill the other inmate anyway when she was hours away from being paroled?  

“In all that time you were stuck in the hallway you didn’t see Warner?” this time the Sergeant rehashed the question again. It was one to many times for the brunette’s liking.

 

“I’ve told you no!” Franky snapped. Raising her voice was physically painful due to the smoke she had inhaled the night before and she began to cough. She grabbed at the plastic cup of water set out in front of her at the start of the interview and took a couple of mouthfuls to ease her hoarse throat.

She wanted to be able to get up and walk around to try and rid herself of some of the tense energy she was feeling but the damn handcuffs were preventing that. The anger was beginning to build and build and she felt like she was going to explode into a tirade of choked out expletives when a firm hand landed on her shoulder from behind. Vera Bennett, currently the acting Governor, was stood behind her in the interview room and had apparently realised she was struggling to contain herself.

“You didn’t look for her?” the Chief Inspector asked.

Franky took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain her temper. The warm hand on her shoulder was oddly calming despite it being that of a woman who had never shown any real kindness to her.

“No” the inmate replied honestly. “The place was exploding around us and to be quite honest I didn’t give a fuck about where she was as I was convinced I was about to die in that corridor. Going looking for a child abductor in a burning inferno just didn’t appeal to me.”

Both Detectives expressions remained stone walled but Franky was starting to feel like her brutal honesty may be getting through to them especially when they remained silent for several seconds. Miss Bennett’s hand remained on her shoulder whilst Franky sat quietly and waited for whatever question would finally come next. She hoped to god it would not be another rehashing of the same question or she’d loose the will to live.

“Did anyone look for Jessica Warner when they came to rescue you?” Sergeant Taylor finally broke the silence. To Franky’s relief the topic may still have been the cracked inmate but at least this time it wasn’t some sort of veiled accusation.

“I don’t remember being rescued so I wouldn’t have a clue” the brunette admitted. “I must have passed out by the time the fire crew got there.”

Franky had very hazy memories after Bea had taken Josh to safety. She remembered sitting down in the hallway and hurling a bit of verbal abuse at Ferguson before erupting into laughter. The situation had obviously not been funny but she had been telling Bea for days that the Freak wouldn’t let her walk out of Wentworth alive and it looked like she was about to be proven right. It was either laugh about it like a mad women or cry like a coward and as her only company was fucking Ferguson then she wasn’t about to show any weakness even right at the very end. At some point during her manic laughter she must have passed out and the next thing she remembered was paramedics surrounding her on the tarmac floor outside the main building stuffing oxygen masks and IV’s on her.

“You don’t recall inmate Bea Smith or the guard Will Jackson rescuing you?” the Chief Inspector inquired.

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. It didn’t really surprise her all that much that Bea had gone back for her. Despite the red heads ability to be brutal as top dog she was still a softie at heart and the two had struck up a tentative alliance and perhaps friendship. However her second rescuer caught her completely surprise. So much so that she felt she needed to clarify that she had heard his name correctly.

“Mr Jackson?” she double checked.

This time it was the acting Governor who answered her not one of the ice cool Detectives sat opposite her.

“Yes Smith ran back into the building to save you and he followed her” Miss Bennett clarified. As she spoke the Governor stepped to the side of Franky, her hand remaining supportively on the brunette’s shoulder.

Franky remained silent but her mind had gone into overdrive. He had already been so good to her by not reporting the taped confession to anyone. She understood that he accepted that it was an accident and probably hadn’t reported as much for his own sake as for hers. It would surely reopen old wounds for him that were best left well alone. However there was a difference between him trying to ignore her guilt and letting her move on and him running into a burning building to actively save her. He was a better person than she was for sure.

“Are you finished?” Miss Bennett’s voice cut into Franky’s thoughts and drew her attention back to the present. “I understand you have an investigation to run but Doyle couldn’t have set the fire as she was seen in her unit at the time of the alarm sounding. As Warner’s body was found in the area where the fire originated I don’t see how Doyle or Smith could have had any role in her death as that part of the building was so engulfed in flames by the time we started evacuating it would have been impossible for them to have gone any further than the corridor.”

Franky was caught off guard by the way that the former deputy Governor not only defended her innocence but also the authority in her tone as she went about it. She had regarded the small brunette as weak before Ferguson turned up and after Ferguson’s arrival the deputy just seemed to be her minion or puppet.

“For now that’s just conjecture Governor Bennet” the senior officer countered coolly, “but yes, Miss Doyle is fee to return to her cell.”

The Governor’s hand finally moved from its comforting position on her shoulder and the handcuffs were undone. The second they were released Franky stood and rubbed the previously restrained wrist with her other hand. She had obviously been tensing against the cuffs when her stress levels rocketed and she had a red mark where they had been.

“Come on Doyle” Miss Bennett instructed gently, grasping her elbow to guide her out of the room.

Franky allowed the smaller woman to lead her from the room and out into the main visitor’s area. As it was a week day the large room was totally deserted apart from the two of them. They headed back into the main part of the prison and into the equally deserted corridor which led from the visiting area to the inmate’s strip search rooms.

“This is so fucked up” she muttered more to herself then to the accompanying woman. “I knew Ferguson would fuck my parole. I’m going to rot in this place.”

The acting Governor’s grip on her elbow increased and the inmate was pulled to a halt. Franky found herself face to face with the smaller woman, looking into determined and resolute brown eyes.

 “No you’re not” Miss Bennett said firmly. “Listen to me Doyle. This investigation WILL clear your name it is just a matter of time and after that happens I will speak to the parole board. There may be a delay before you are released but I don’t see how they could deny it to you.”

It was hard for Franky to relate this Vera Bennett to the one that had consistently insisted that she was trouble and not worth the effort throughout her stay at Wentworth. The woman had constantly saw the worst in her and presumed the worst. Hell Bennett had even threatened to reinstate the verbal abuse charge to try and manipulate her into becoming a prison fucking snitch. Franky was also damn sure the current acting Governor had gotten Bridget the sack because she had suspected something was going on between Franky and the psychologist.

“Why would you help me?” the inmate asked the acting Governor.

It would probably be wise to just shut up and accept her help she was being offered but there wasn’t exactly a longstanding trust between them…or any trust at all for that matter. So Franky needed to try and understand why Miss Bennett would suddenly want to help her now.

“I failed ALL the women in this facility under Ferguson…I know that now” the acting Governor admitted, letting out a deep sigh as she spoke. “I promise you I will not make the same mistakes again and I will fight your corner.”

Franky was left momentarily dumbfounded by the honesty and sincerity in the other woman’s tone. She wasn’t one to trust easily but the Governor’s words did give her some hope. She tried desperately to keep a lid on that hope though for fear it would only lead to serious disappointment. Pretty much everything in her life always did.

Miss Bennett was already starting to walk again by the time Franky had gotten a grip of herself so it appeared the conversation was over for now. So instead the brunette steeled herself for the walk back through the prison. She would undoubtedly pass other inmates on her way to the slots and she was determined to swagger past like nothing had happened. If she was stuck in Wentworth for the foreseeable future she wasn’t going to ruin her image just because she felt like shit and had just been ridden unnecessary hard by the police.

 

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

Bridget leant back in the relatively comfortable café chair she was sitting in and tried to wait patiently for the acting Governor’s arrival. It had been a few hours before Vera had got in contact with her. In the mean time she had spent most of her time sat on her sofa in a state of shell shock.

Despite the fact she had lived alone for years now her home had felt suddenly empty. She had expected to be returning with Franky. She had dreamed that around about now they would be tangled between the sheets making love for most of the day. Instead she had a bedroom closet with a vast amount of empty space which she had cleared for Franky’s things, a spare bedroom set up as an office and personal space for the brunette…and no Franky. Even as an experienced psychologist it amazed her how the mind worked. The spare room had laid unused for several years without bothering her but today its redundancy felt like a knife in the chest.

When Vera did call the acting Governor gave very little away about what had happened but had asked if they could meet later in the evening after Vera finished work. The location was the same coffee house as they had met in a couple of weeks before when discussing Ferguson. It was away from the prison and populated by arty types. They were unlikely to stumble across another prison guard or member of the board there and Bridget presumed that was why Vera had chosen it as the location.

They were meant to be meeting at six. Bridget had arrived ten minutes early and Vera was already ten minutes late. It was little surprise that the acting Governor had been delayed after such a major event but it did little to help Bridget’s nerves. She may look cool on the outside but her inability to keep her hands still would give away her nervous energy away to anyone who chose to really observe her.

Finally she spotted the petite brunette walking towards her. Vera was still in uniform although it was virtually all hidden by a thin black coat which came down to just above the knees. Her hair was the most dishevelled Bridget had seen it and she looked bloody exhausted.

“Bridget” Vera greeted as the haphazardly tossed her bag on the floor by the chair and sat down with a thud.

“You look like you need a coffee” Bridget responded by way of a greeting. Vera snorted in response.

“I need a bottle of vodka but coffee will do” she replied with a slight smirk. The blonde suspected that despite the fact the remark was disguised as a joke the acting Governor probably meant it.

Bridget hailed one of the waitresses who was milling around clearing tables. Usually she would get up and go to the counter herself but she was desperate to hear whatever Vera wanted to tell her. A young red haired girl who looked like she was just out of high school came over and smiled politely at them.

“Just a flat white please with an extra shot” Vera ordered, receiving a curt nod from the girl.

The acting Governor reached for her bag to pay but Bridget picked up her own purse from the table and gave the girl a crisp five dollar note. Vera smiled gratefully and placed her own bag back down on the floor.

“Keep the change” Bridget instructed the red head. The girl suddenly brightened at the mention of a tip and left to make the coffee. That left the two of them alone again and Bridget was desperate to ask the acting Governor about what had happened the night before and of course about Franky. She held her eagerness in and waited for Vera to strike up the conversation, hiding her hyperactive hands under the table and tapping her thighs instead.

“Doyle was questioned by the police today” Vera started after some silent contemplation. “They are trying to piece together what happened to Warner. Her body was so badly burnt that there is unlikely to be any forensic evidence retrievable from it.”

Bridget had been horrified the first time Vera had told her Franky was being held on suspicion of murder and the sickening feeling didn’t diminish on the second occasion. In fact for a brief moment the blonde thought she might actually be physically ill and she grasped the edge of the table with both hands.

 

“I think they are looking at every possibility including Doyle and Smith” Vera assured her, obviously seeing her discomfort. “I suspect Ferguson killed Warner and set the fire to try and cover it up. If that is the case then although they may not be able to get any evidence from Warner’s body, they should be able to work out where the fire started. If the fire was started in the location of the body as I suspect then it puts both Smith and Doyle in the clear as the building was already on fire when they entered the corridor.”

Bridget noticed that Vera looked like she may reach out to try and grasp the blonde’s hand to comfort her. However as the acting Governor’s hands started to slide forward across the table the red headed waitress reappeared with the coffee and a couple of sachets of sugar. Vera thanked the girl as she placed the coffee in front of her and removed Bridget’s empty cup. By the time the waitress had gone Bridget had outwardly managed to rein in her emotions and had released her death grip on the table.

“You said earlier that Franky and Bea were rescuing Doreen’s baby?” she asked the prison officer. “I take it that means that Warner had taken him?”

Vera glanced down at her steaming coffee and nodded in affirmation. Whilst the brunette quietly went about adding one of the sugars into her drink Bridget was left contemplating it all. She suspected Vera’s theory about Ferguson setting the fire to cover Warner’s murder was correct. The former Governor was a complicated character and if Jess kidnapping a baby had triggered her psychosis then she was more than capable of killing her. Ferguson was also smart enough to try and claim that after retrieving the baby from the inmate that Warner had started the fire and died in her own inferno. Bridget didn’t really give a fuck if Ferguson managed to wriggle her way out of a murder charge as long as Franky was cleared.

“For what its worth I think it was a very brave thing for Doyle to do” Vera suddenly piped up.

Bridget picked up instantly on the fact that Vera had singled Franky out and not both Franky and Bea. It was possible she thought the brunette inmate would be the only one of the two Bridget would be interested in but the psychologist suspected Vera was singling her out because Bea had nothing to lose whereas Franky did. Bea was a lifer with no hope of ever getting parole, what did it matter to her if she was accused of another murder or even if she died. Franky on the other hand was on the eve of her parole and a chance to start again in the outside world. The sad thing was that the reason for Vera praising her was the thing that made Bridget so devastated.

“Bridget” the acting Governor regained her attention with the use of her name. “Come back to Wentworth. The women need you now more than ever.”

The psychologist hadn’t known what to expect of this meeting but an offer to return to her old job hadn’t crossed her mind. Despite the fact they had buried the hatched over their shared agenda to remove Ferguson from office Vera was the reason Bridget had been sacked in the first place. Considering the prison officer had an issue with her closeness to the inmate they had been talking about it seemed odd that Vera would ask for her to return whilst Franky was still incarcerated there.

“I can’t” Bridget replied sadly. “You were right about my feelings for Franky. I could push them aside and wait when I knew her parole hearing was impending but how can I be in the same place as her everyday knowing it could be two years before her release.”

It would drive her mad. It would probably drive Franky mad too. In the end it would be inevitable that they would cross the prisoner/inmate boundary. If they were caught then Bridget could end up incarcerated never mind out of a job. Yet still it was tempting to just throw caution to the wind so she could at least see the beautiful inmate every day. That was the effect Franky Doyle had on her. It felt like she was drowning in her feelings but at the same time the brunette made her as high as a kite.

“Once she has been cleared I will press for Doyle’s parole to be reinstated” Vera continued, apparently un-phased by Bridget confession. The blonde had been sure that in admitting having feelings for the inmate that it would bring a swift end to the conversation. Apparently she had underestimated Vera. Without the hard and cruel influence of Ferguson she wasn’t quite as rigid as Bridget had presumed her to be.

“I know it’s a lot to ask but I really do think you can make a difference” the brunette pressed. “I think your return could help improve everyone’s morale, especially Franky’s. Although I would expect you to keep her at a professional distance…obviously.”

 _Obviously_. The word wasn’t said in a harsh way but it still made Bridget’s heart ache. As cool as Vera was being over Bridget’s confession of feelings for an inmate she was calmly letting her know that she couldn’t support it whilst Franky was in Wentworth. Vera would just overlook it as long as no boundaries were crossed.

If Vera was true to her word though and pressed for Franky’s release the psychologist would only have to contain herself for a matter of weeks or perhaps a month or two. It would still be hell but if Bridget had a target to work towards then she had a chance of containing herself. It was so tempting just to say yes on the spot.

“Can I have a little time to think about it?” Bridget requested, trying to buy herself a little time to prevent her making a rash decision.

“Of course” Vera replied smoothly. The slight smirk on the brunette’s face as she picked up her cooling coffee and took a sip suggested Vera was well aware she was succeeding in enticing the psychologist back.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 3**

 

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Franky closed her eyes and enjoyed the morning sunlight that was currently shining directly into the exercise yard. She was sat on one of the few picnic benches in the shorter end of the L shaped yard. It had been a week since she had been able to sit outside or have the ability to roam. Seven days wasn’t too horrendous a stint in the slots, she’d endured far longer stints, but they were seven days she could have been living in the real word not a concrete box. What made it worse was the sympathy she had been getting from every fucking screw that brought her medicine or food. Even Miss Miles who was usually poker faced looked really fucking sorry for her. It made Franky want to scream at the injustice of it all. Instead she just resorted to doing press ups until she dripped with sweat and her arms ached so much she collapsed on the cold stone floor and just lay there in physical and mental agony.

They had let her out this morning just after giving her breakfast and as everyone else was still in the cafeteria eating theirs. Franky had taken the opportunity to sit outside on her own for a while before facing them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Boomer or Liz or Doreen, they were all important to her, but she didn’t know if she could cope with the pity she was bound to receive from them. She was full of enough self-pity to cover all bases.

She had been dragged to the interview room three times in total to speak to the two sombre Detectives and it had left her frustrated on every occasion. At least after the second time they seemed to have given up on the idea that she had been involved in that kid snatching wacko bitch Warner’s death. The final time had centred on Bea and whether or not Franky had seen how Bea had ended up with Josh. They didn’t give much away but the brunette had pieced together from the direction of their questions that Ferguson was accusing Bea of attacking her whilst she was rescuing little Josh. Perhaps she was even accusing Bea of attacking her and trying to leave her to die. Franky had told them that Bea already had Josh by the time she arrived but that aside from having been knocked off her feet by the first explosion Ferguson hadn’t seemed any worse for wear.

Other than the odd trip to the visitor centre Franky had spent the rest of the time doing push ups or staring at blank walls. She’s thought about the fire and how if she could turn back time she wouldn’t do anything different despite the fact it had landed her in this shit. She had thought of Bridget and wondered if the blonde knew about what had happened. She wondered if Bridget, who had previously stuck around even when Franky thought she would run, would even consider her now she was stuck in Wentworth for the long haul again. Every time the door had opened Franky had imagined Bridget walking in wearing that white and black patterned shirt and telling her she had good news. Each time it was just another screw bringing her meals on wheels.

She could hear the door to one of the blocks opening behind her and knew her peace and quiet was now at an end. Breakfast was over and people would soon be pouring out into the yard. She was about to get up and head to her cell in the hope of avoiding people a little while longer when a teal clad body plopped down beside her on the bench. It was Liz.

Franky was waiting for some sort of attempt at a motivating speech from the older blonde inmate but instead Liz just sat in silence with her. She wondered if Miss Bennett or one of the other guards had let Liz leave breakfast early to come see her as no other inmates appeared in the yard.

The companionable silence relaxed Franky and she found herself grateful for Liz’s steadying presence. The blonde had been like a mother to her for a substantial amount of her stay in the correctional facility. She had hated it when they had been fighting but she had been hurt and had lashed out again and again. The brunette leant into the side of the older woman and rested her head on Liz’s shoulder.

“You did the right thing you know?” the blonde finally spoke up. Franky responded with a humourless snort. She had undoubtedly done the right thing by saving a child but it didn’t give her any comfort to hear it. She kept on looking straight ahead but she felt Liz turn her head and press her cheek into the top of the brunette’s head. When Franky didn’t recoil the blonde slowly lifted her arm and draped it across the younger woman’s shoulders.

“I know it means very little love but what you did…going in to danger to rescue little Josh like that…It was brave and selfless” Liz gently praised her.

Brave and selfless? Franky had never heard herself called either of those things before. Throughout her whole time in Wentworth she had been incredibly selfish. Yes she could hide behind the fact that prison was a dog eat dog world and you had to adapt to survive but it didn’t excuse or justify many of her actions. She regretted so many of her actions now that having Liz call her selfless made her feel fucking fraudulent.

“It wasn’t exactly selfless” Franky sighed. “I’ve been such a bitch to you and Dor….I couldn’t let her lose the little one could I? I suppose I felt like I was redeeming myself a little bit.”

“You risked your life Franky” Liz countered quickly. “You could have died.”

The older woman’s words rattled the brunette’s cage slightly as her actions had resulted in a prolonged stay in a place she hated and regarded as an absolute shit hole. Death may well have been preferable especially if the acting Governor couldn’t make good on her pledge to try and influence the parole board.

“I wish I had” Franky muttered.

She hadn’t intended to admit it out loud, it just kind of came slipping out. She instantly tensed but Liz remained calm alongside her, the only sign she had even heard Franky’s comment was a small sad sigh.

“This is just a short extension to your stay love, it isn’t forever” Liz tried to comfort her.

The younger inmate knew the blonde was right to a certain extent but she also felt like it blurred over the bigger picture. Sure she would be released eventually if someone didn’t shiv her first but with each passing second her life was wasting away before her.

“The longer I am stuck in here the more of my life I throw away and the more my chances of making something of myself when I get out fade a fucking way” Franky bemoaned. 

At twenty eight years of age it still felt reasonable that she was finishing her qualifications off. If she was stuck in the Correctional Facility another two years she would be released in the fourth decade of her life. Age would be yet another thing working against her when looking for a trainee position in the law.

“Keep your chin up and keep studying” Liz encouraged. “Promise me you won’t give up love because it would be such a waste.”

Franky leant harder against the only mother figure she had ever really known and closed her eyes. She tried to think about the only positives she could muster up about Wentworth. Here she had something of a family unit. There was a Boomer, who was undoubtedly the best friend she had ever had in her twenty eight years. There was obviously Liz and her daughter Sophie, Doreen and the bae and even Bea and Maxine. A few months ago she would have laughed at the idea of them being family but she and Bea had come to an understanding, then they had become allies of a sort and then a tentative friendship developed. If she had to stay a little longer then at least she had people she cared for and who cared for her. It would do little to improve the feeling of being owned by the state but it would help her muddle through.

“I don’t think I can promise anything Liz” she replied honestly, “but I will try.”

The blonde squeezed her a bit harder with the arm that draped across the younger inmates shoulder and kissed the top of the brunette’s head. Franky could hear other inmates pouring into the yard but she didn’t bother extracting herself from Liz. She didn’t have enough energy to give a fuck what any of them thought right now.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

Even though she had a whole week to deal with the disappointment of Franky’s parole being rescinded it didn’t dampen the sickening feeling of pulling up just three places down from the parking speck she had slotted into just seven days before when she thought she was picking up the brunette and whisking her of into the sunset. It took a further couple of minutes for the forensic psychologist to find the composure to exit the Porsche and walk up the road to the staff entrance.

Bridget still wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing in accepting Vera’s offer to return to work at Wentworth. In all honesty once the shock of Franky Doyle’s parole being rescinded had died down then the hurt and the anger had kicked in. The brunette inmate had been hours away from release. They had been hours away from finally being together. Bridget had convinced herself that Franky wanted that as much as she did but if that was the case how could the inmate be so stupid as to risk throwing it all away? Those thoughts were selfish and stupid. Bridget knew that. The brunette had broken rules and risked her life to save an innocent child; a baby which had no chance of helping himself. On the one hand Bridget thought the actions were heroic. On the other she felt like they were a knife in her chest. Every moment spent in what now felt like a cold and lonely house just twisted that knife further.

 It had taken her three days to finally make a decision and her heart was still doing battle with her head four days after that. Her head had told her time and time again to just take a job in a private practice and visit Franky at weekends. That way the brunette inmate would know Bridget hadn’t given up on her like everyone else had before her and would give Bridget space to work through her own issues about what happened without upsetting the inmate. Plus Bridget wouldn’t be risking her career and liberty working in the same facility as her.

 Her heart kept arguing back though, pointing out in return that by visiting Franky her professionalism would be in question anyway as she could only be there during visiting hours for personal reasons. At least if she was working in the prison she had the excuse of seeing the brunette in a professional setting as long as she could keep control of her hormones around the beautiful inmate. In the end the part of her that longed to see Franky five days a week won out and she had accepted the acting Governor’s offer to return. So here she was, outside the prison gates with new ID card in hand and a box full of belongings, ready to return to work.

Bridget came to a halt in front of the first wire gate and balanced her box between her left hand and hip, freeing her right hand up to slide the ID card through the lock mechanism. The gate slid open, metal creaking and scraping along the tarmac entrance way. The noise was familiar yet it felt like she was hearing it all again for the first time. She had never been so hyper sensitive when entering the facility before. The second gate opened in a similar fashion just a few seconds later and Bridget found herself walking the familiar route down the side of the quieter tip of the exercise yard.

It was just after breakfast and a sunny morning so the main yard was full of inmates. The side yard though was always a little less populated as there was no gym equipment or basketball court. She tried to keep her head down and not look around too much but she could see in the periphery of her vision that there were a few women milling around on foot and at the benches.

Despite the fact she wasn’t trying to look it took her all of about five steps down the walkway to notice that the woman who had invaded every waking thought and every dream for the past couple of months was sitting at one of the picnic tables. Bridget couldn’t help but looking up from her cardboard box once she realised Franky was present, the inmate was like a magnet to her.

The brunette hadn’t noticed her yet and was sat talking to Liz Birdsworth. Liz was an inmate that Bridget had plenty of time for and the fact the two looked so comfortable meant they had buried the hatchet. That could only be a good thing for Franky and her ability to cope on the inside for a little longer.

It was the older blonde inmate that noticed her presence first. Even through the fencing and at a distance Bridget registered the inmates surprise at seeing her. Franky noticed too and that drew her stare in Bridget’s direction. The way the inmate sat bolt upright and her blue eyes lit up completely destroyed Bridget. Despite the anger and the disappointment she was certain of one thing…she was completely in love with Franky Doyle. How the fuck was she meant to stay composed if the inmate looked at her like she was the sun and the sky and the whole fucking universe.

She should have never agreed to come back.

For a few seconds Bridget slowed nearly to a standstill and Franky remained frozen in place. Their eyes remained rooted to the others despite the fact Bridget knew she should tear her own gaze away. It wasn’t until the brunette began to shift in her seat that the psychologist panicked and tore her own gaze away.

Franky began extricating herself from the picnic bench and Bridget knew if she lingered the inmate would be over to the fence line and shattering the last of the blonde’s composure. She did the only thing she could think of doing to protect herself…she stuck her head down again and marched on at the fastest walk she could muster. Bridget didn’t dare look back to see if Franky had made a move towards the fence line. She couldn’t bear to see the inevitable disappointment in the inmate’s eyes that she had walked on by without properly acknowledging her. Bridget felt disgusted with herself for causing Franky pain. She felt disgusted with herself for her own lack of self-control and frustrated with herself for not being able to stay away. Yet even despite that frustration she continued on her way to her office. No matter how much her head screamed out her heart was here inside the concrete walls of Wentworth.

 

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Bridget had only just unpacked her things back into the desk of the small office when there was a knock on the door. She was expecting a visit from the acting Governor. Normally either the Governor or their deputy would be out front to greet you on your first day of work but obviously Bridget knew her way around and didn’t need the pomp. A courtesy visit though would be part and parcel of her first day back.

“Come in” she called out, shuffling the last of her things around into the correct position on her desk.

The door crept open but instead of the small brunette woman entering it was the much larger and male acting Deputy Governor who peered around the doorframe. She hadn’t seen him since she had been forced to resign but she knew from Vera he had made great progress since then and virtually had total recall over his memories.

“Hey! G’day Matt!” she greeted.

The burly Prison Guard had seemed a bit stand offish and short tempered when she had first met him but during their sessions she realised that he was actually a really decent bloke. He still had a shit storm of issues to work through though after his time in the military. Hopefully they could start up the sessions again but she’d leave that to his digression.

“Bridget” the blonde guard responded warmly. “Vera is stuck in a meeting so she asked if I could stick my head in and check you were okay.”

“I’m good thanks” she replied, leaning back against the side of the desk that faced the door.

For a moment she thought he would remain in the doorway or leave but finally he strode in to the office and sat down on the arm of the nearest chair to her desk. He looked a little out of his comfort zone as the deputy Governor. She’d heard a rumour that he had coveted the Governor’s role after Erica Davidson’s dismissal and perhaps prior to the car ‘accident’ the role may have suited him. She was sure he had accepted the Deputy’s roll for Vera’s sake to provide her with some cover but it was likely to be short term as the board were planning to bring someone new in as Vera’s deputy. One advantage of her alliance with the acting Governor was that she had far more idea about what was going on behind the scenes now. They had several phone conversations over the past week about Ferguson, the board, Franky and the police investigation.

“Vera said that the board agreed the extra activities you wanted…the drop in periods and extra group sessions and such” Matt informed her. “Her secretary should have e-mailed you a proposed timetable a few minutes ago so you just need to double check it and send any amendments back.”

Bridget smiled in response. This was the other bonus of her and the brunette’s alliance. Vera seemed very receptive to her ideas about how best to provide counselling and support sessions for the women. The acting Governor was under pressure to distance herself from the severity of Ferguson’s reign of terror and better social welfare and education facilities for the inmates was the obvious quick solution. Not that Bridget thought that Vera Bennett was just using her to secure the Governorship of the Correctional Facility. It certainly helped but she also got the impression that after everything that had occurred with Ferguson (and perhaps even Franky’s show of heroism) had convinced Vera that her judgement was sound.

“It’s good to have you back” Matt said as he stood up from his perch on the putrid coloured chair. “I never got a chance to thank you for helping me regain my memories. Considering what I remembered about Ferguson it probably saved lives.”

Bridget was grateful for his sentiment but she wished she could have done more. More to help Jodie before Ferguson totally fucked the woman up. She should have listened to Franky earlier when the young inmate kept trying to bring the topic up. Perhaps then any death could have been avoided.

“Not everyone’s” she said, following the words with a deep sigh.

Warner’s death was a bit like the elephant in the room. Bridget was well aware Matt had remembered having inappropriate relations with the inmate although she doubted he’d mourn the woman’s death. Few would have much sympathy for a woman who abducted a child from its own mother. He nodded in response, his facial expression neutral, before walking out the office and closing the door behind him.

Once the door clicked shut she walked back around to the other side of the desk and turned the computer on. If she was going to get through the day without going mental thinking about Franky she needed to stick her head down and work. The computer fired into life and she put her administrative password into the login page. Another two clicks and she had opened her mail inbox. There was an e-mail from Vera welcoming her back to work followed by the e-mail from the Governors secretary. She opened it and clicked on the schedule. It looked reasonable enough but she would take a proper look at the extra session times later.

The first thing that caught her attention was that she had three appointments pencilled in for today which Vera must have organised for her. The first one was with Doreen Anderson, which considering what she had just gone through was absolutely no surprise. In fact Vera had scheduled her in for a further appointment with the new mother later in the week. The acting Governor had done the same with Bridget’s second appointment of the day; she was to have a session with Jodie Spiteri in isolation. The third appointment was with Bea Smith who was still stuck in the slots. Ferguson was trying to claim that Warner had killed herself and started the fire and that Bea has assaulted her when she was trying to get to safety with Anderson’s baby. Ferguson’s implication was that Bea had tried to leave her for dead, capitalising on the opportunity to kill off someone she saw as a rival.

The last appointment of the day had no one booked in, only a sentence which read ‘perhaps another inmate affected by the fire’. Bridget wasn’t stupid, she could see Vera was giving her the opportunity to book Franky in for an appointment but the forensic psychologist knew it was too early for her to try and tackle the brunette inmate yet. If she was impartial then she’d have made Franky a priority especially knowing her parole had been revoked and she must be feeling low. Ryan, the external psyche who Franky had finished her programme for the parole hearing with, had seen her during the last week though and reported that she was holding up okay. He was pencilled in to see Franky tomorrow too so the tattooed inmate was not going unaided.

Another knock on the door drew Bridget’s attention back to her work. Doreen was here for the first session and a burly prison guard opened the door to allow the inmate to enter. Anderson was not alone and had a little bundle wrapped in a white blanket cradled in her arms.

“Heeeeey” Bridget greeted, her mood improved when she realised Doreen had her new born with her. “So this is little Josh right? Can I have a hold?”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 4**

 

**_Franky POV_ **

 

It had been two whole days since Franky had seen Bridget Westfall walking past the yard on Monday morning. She hadn’t expected to see the blonde ever again although she’d hoped that she may get a surprise during visiting hours. Seeing Bridget striding around Wentworth again like nothing had happened between them had put the inmate into a state of shock and she’d spent the entire two days in a daze. She’d tried to read and she’d tried to study but she just found herself rereading the same line again and again, unable to take it in.

Franky had tried to catch her attention in the corridor but Bridget had either been talking to someone else or too far away from her. She’d tried to request an appointment with the blonde but nothing had come of it. Instead she had been sent to see Ryan the previous day. He was nice enough and had been quite helpful the previous week just a couple of days after the fire but it wasn’t him Franky wanted to talk too. She’d gone through the motions, telling him what he wanted to hear, but he had known she was distracted. Luckily he didn’t try to push her.

The fact Bridget seemed to be actively avoiding her was confusing and it hurt like hell. Franky couldn’t decide if she had somehow made up the depth of the other woman’s feelings for her or if Bridget was just not interested in her now she wasn’t due to be a free woman any time soon. Had it actually been about sex all along?

Every time Franky heard someone talking about having had an appointment with the forensic psychologist it hurt like hell. The first morning Franky had only been able to listen to Doreen gushing about how great Miss Westfall had been with Josh and how it was so good to have her back for about two minutes before sulking off to the library. Yesterday Sophie had yacked on for a good five minutes about her and Liz’s joint session with Miss Westfall and how helpful it had been. Liz for her part sat in silence with an apologetic look all over her face. The older inmate was always astute and had been aware from the second Franky locked eyes with Bridget across the yard how shocked she had been to see the psychologist. Liz’s sympathetic eyes didn’t soften the blow though and this time Franky resorted to doing sit ups in her room until her abs ached so much she couldn’t physically get up off the floor and she had fallen asleep there.

It was Wednesday morning and most of the inmates were out in the yard. Franky however had opted to sit on her own in H2 and try and study. So far she had managed to read two paragraphs of tort law and despite the fact it wasn’t anything very complicated she just couldn’t take it in. She began to read the same paragraphs again, trying to focus on them properly this time, when someone entered the block. She glanced up expecting to see Doreen or possibly Sophie returning from the yard but instead Maxine strolled in. Bea was still in the slots and Boomer was in the yard so there was no reason for the inmate who was housed in H4 to be there. At first Maxine didn’t speak but smiled warmly before proceeding to make her way to the kitchen table and sit down opposite Franky.

“What do you want?” Franky asked as the taller inmate continued to sit silently and smile at her.

“Why can’t I just be being friendly?” Maxine asked sweetly…and far too innocently for the younger brunette’s liking.

Franky automatically snorted in response. If the other inmate thought she was being subtle then she was fucking stupid. Even naive little Sophie would be able to pick up on the fact Maxine wanted something.

“Fine” the other inmate conceded when Franky didn’t bother replying. “Shit is stirring around here Franky.”

Shit was always stirring in Wentworth. Franky sat silently, her stare hard, waiting for Maxine to get the fucking point.

“With Bea still in the slot people are starting to think they can make a move for top dog” the other inmate continued.

Wonderful Franky inwardly groaned to herself. Bea’s hard woman was worried she was going to make a play for power again and that’s why she had started the conversation. Did Maxine really think that this sweetness and light act would intimidate her?

“If this is meant to be a threat then don’t bother” she barked at the other inmate. “I couldn’t give a fuck about being top dog. I tried it once and it nearly turned me into a fucking head case.”

Franky was just starting to warm to Maxine before she got parole but she’d go off her really fucking fast if she was going to try and intimidate her and shit. She may have no intention of being the Queen fucking bee of Wentworth but she wouldn’t be pushed around by anyone. Even if that person still retained the muscle tone of a man.

“If you were going to make a move you’d have done it already” Maxine brushed off Franky’s irritable response calmly. “Listen, people know you and Bea formed an alliance against Ferguson. If you strut around being Bea’s number two people will back down. You’d just be keeping it warm for her. Nothing that would sent you too nuts!”

The other inmate’s suggestion caught Franky of guard. On one hand she was relieved the older brunette wasn’t trying to intimidate her but on the other hand she thought the idea was utterly ridiculous and a bit offensive.

“No fucking way” she replied with plenty of conviction. “I’m no one’s bench warmer Maxine but you...you’re Bea’s bit of muscle. You keep it warm for her.”

“It’s not that simple” Maxine countered. The older inmate shifted in her seat, suddenly less composed than before. When Maxine has asked the question Franky hadn’t understood why Maxine was asking her to take on the role when the older brunette was the more obvious candidate. Now, seeing Maxine’s discomfort, Franky realised that this was a gender issue. She didn’t give a fuck whether Maxine had started out life as a male or a monkey but other prisoners were much shorter sighted. They may see Maxine as a very effective henchman but not respect her as a leader. Their prejudices were bullshit really but then bullshit was an epidemic at Wentworth.

 “For you maybe” Franky conceded, “but for me it’s pretty fucking simple.”

The younger inmate had sympathy with Maxine trying to keep the status quo. A power vacuum in a prison was a really dangerous thing and with Ferguson out and the much less crazed Bennett in as Governor there was a bigger vacuum than Franky had seen in her years at the facility. If Miss Bennett hadn’t offered to speak on her behalf to the board Franky would have probably buried her pride and agreed. After all if she was to be stuck inside for another two years forming a proper alliance with Bea would be the easiest way to survive without too much hassle. However if Vera succeeded in getting her a hearing with the parole board then Franky couldn’t fuck it all up by getting involved in shit and not keeping her nose clean.

Maxine didn’t press the issue any further but just sat and regarded her from across the table. Franky was in no mood to sit there being scrutinized so she picked her textbook, notepad and pens up and strutted out of the unit without looking back at the other inmate. She stuck her head down and marched to the library, paying little attention to any inmates or screws she passed along the way.

When she reached the library she was relieved to find it absolutely empty and she took a seat at the desk furthest away from the door. The brunette really wasn’t in the mood for company. After being released from solitary Franky had been determined that she would feel better if she surrounded herself by her friends. However that hadn’t been the case. It hadn’t helped that most of them kept on going on about Bridget but in truth she just didn’t feel jovial enough for company. She recognised the fact she was feeling a bit depressed but if the object of her affections wouldn’t speak to her she didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. She could hardly bring it up in one of her sessions with her current shrink or she’d cause Bridget to lose her job for a second time. Franky was hurt and frustrated by the blonde but she wasn’t willing to fuck up her chances completely by being a stupid childish bitch.

Her solitude was short lived. There was movement in the doorway and for a moment she didn’t bother looking up until something caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. It wasn’t just one person, it was a few people and they were lingering. When Franky did look up she audibly groaned. Stood just inside the library was Cyndi Lou’s old gang of friends but they seemed to have found themselves a new ringleader, the Kaz Proctor woman who Bea had been in contact with.

“Franky” their normal mouthpiece greeted, a smug smile written all over her features.

They had pretty much kept out of her way since the fight in the kitchen but they were the kind of people who would make a play for top dog. Kaz Proctor had been a ringleader of what was in effect a violent gang so if anyone was going to try and challenge for power it was her. Franky may have no interest in the role but that didn’t mean others wouldn’t presume, just like Maxine had done, that she would step into it with Bea slotted. That made her a target so wandering off to the abandoned library on her own probably hadn’t been the wisest of moves.

 “Fuck” Franky muttered to herself. From the look on the four women’s faces shit was about to get very real.

One of the women closed the library door behind them. There were glass panels in the windows so it didn’t exactly give them privacy to beat the crap out of her but it would certainly be enough to muffle any cries for help.

Once the door was closed they started to make their way towards the corner of the library. Franky knew that if she wanted to look cool and collected she should remain seated but her best chance of defending herself came if she was on her feet. She could probably bash a couple of them with the fucking chair and even the numbers out a bit. Problem was if she pre-empted them and bashed one of them with a chair then she could find herself in trouble. There was no way she could fuck up her chances of parole again. She had all her hopes pinned on Miss Bennett keeping to her word and she couldn’t risk losing the good will she had suddenly found there.  

There was no preamble. As soon as they reached the desk one of the women tried to flip it in her direction. Franky had been expecting it though and had leapt to her feet and shoved it back at them. She tried to use the distraction of the table clattering their way to make a break for the door but something caught her across the side of the head and the brunette knew she hadn’t been quite quick enough.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

The forensic psychologists first two days back had been filled with more admin work than real therapy. Sure she had undertaken some one on one sessions but her other sessions and activities wouldn’t start until the following week. Bridget was sure that once the group and drop in slots started she would have no chance but to face Franky Doyle but at least it had given her this week to try and deal with the brunette inmate’s proximity. Not that she had dealt with it very well at all; not unless you counted ‘dealing with it’ as hiding from the younger woman.

Doreen had gone on about Franky, Bea and the fire and how amazing they were for rescuing her pride and joy. It had made Bridget feel guilty for her anger towards the brunette but still hadn’t shaken it entirely. She was starting to understand Franky’s actions more and more through the other inmate’s eyes though. Liz and Sophie had mentioned Franky several times in their joint session and despite Liz’s previous misgivings it was obvious Franky had played an active part in improving their fragile relationship and helping Sophie deal with the adjustment to prison life. Bridget had even spoken to Boomer in the corridor and Franky’s friend had been quick to tell her about how Franky had written a letter that had got her extra time reduced. Bridget recognised it as the pet project the brunette had been working on in the library that time Vera had walked in on them and presumed the worst.

It all added up to one thing. Franky, in an attempt to face her mistakes, had attempted to do things that would make up for things she had done that she wasn’t proud of. The forensic psychologist was damn sure that throwing herself deeper into the depths of a burning building to rescue little Josh had been part of that desire to redeem herself in other people’s eyes.

Bridget was starting to wonder if her and Franky’s ‘connection’ was the worst kept secret ever and that all the people she had spoken to were actively trying to ‘talk Franky up’ to her. Even Bea Smith had wanted to talk about Franky during their session on Monday. Bridget had literally only just sat down on the seat one of the guards had provided in the isolation cell before the red haired inmate had asked about the other inmate.

_“You spoke to Franky?” Bea had asked in response to Bridget asking her if she was okay._

_The forensic psychologist had tried to ignore the question and move on but Bea had cut in with another enquiry._

_“Is she okay?” the red head pushed for answers._

_“I’m here to talk about you Bea not other inmates” Bridget had replied, trying to deflect Bea away from the topic. It was true after all, she wasn’t meant to discuss other inmates with her patients unless it directly related to an issue the patient had._

_“I’m only asking if she is alright” Bea continued to press, quirking her eyebrow at Bridget’s reluctance to engage with her about the tattooed inmate._

_Bridget hadn’t realised the two of them had become friendly enough to show quite so much concern about the other. Vera had told her that Bea had ran back in to the building to rescue Franky once little Josh was safe. If they had been thrown into the slots straight after that then the last Bea had probably seen of the brunette was her half-conscious with an oxygen mask on so perhaps Bridget needed to cut her a bit of slack and respond to her concern._

_“She’s fine” Bridget finally replied, “She’s back in H2 again.”_

_Bea nodded in approval yet let out a short sharp laugh which contradicted her body language._

_“Just me Ferguson is trying to royally fuck over then?” the red head snickered._

_Bridget felt some pity for Bea as she was damn sure she was telling the truth about not assaulting the crazed former Governor. It wasn’t that Bridget didn’t think her capable; after all Bea had undoubtedly killed two people and attempted to kill another. Bea Smith was a bit of an enigma. Most would sympathise with her for lashing out at her abusive husband but the calculated way in which she had gone about it did suggest something darker beneath the surface. The murder of Jacs Holt had been a moment of rage, something many would again sympathise with considering the other woman’s involvement in Bea’s daughter’s death. On the other hand the calculated way in which Bea had escaped and killed Jac’s son screamed a lot less of the role of a victim. Basically Smith was capable of a great deal of empathy and had great social skills. On the other hand she was capable of being violent for the sake of violence. The ability to balance both aspects set her out as an effective top dog._

_“Franky should be a week into her parole” Bridget pointed out. “I think Ferguson did a pretty good number on both of you.”_

_Bea, who had previously been stood quite defensively by the back wall of the cell nodded again and stepped back to the edge of the bed, sitting down to face the psychologist. Now Bridget had Bea’s attention she tried to bring up the topic of the fire, using Franky as her way in to the conversation._

_“You went back into the fire to rescue Franky Doyle” the blonde commented. “That was very brave of you. You risked your life.”_

_Bea tilted her head and just looked at Bridget for a few moments before smiling. It unnerved the blonde a little that the inmate was trying to read her body language as much as she was trying to read the inmates. Finally Bea straightened up and her bemused expression changed to a slight closed lip smile._

_“I don’t have very much to look forward to do I?” Bea volunteered in response. “I knew Franky did. I hope she still does.”_

_The final remark threw Bridget completely off guard especially as the red head looked at her pointedly. Bea Smith really didn’t miss a trick and it took all of Bridget’s composure to ignore it and steer the subject away from Franky._

Bea’s comment had hit the mark though and Bridget had again been left feeling guilty about her own behaviour towards the young inmate. The words had swam around her head time and time again when she had nothing to distract her. Apparently walking from the admissions room back to her office didn’t count as a distraction as her thoughts were invaded by Franky Doyle once again.

It was only when Bridget reached the corridor leading to her office that she was distracted from her thoughts. They was a huge commotion about half way down by the library doors. Will Jackson and Linda Miles were dragging a very agitated inmate out of the library. It was a foreign sounding woman who Bridget had seen around but had always avoided any of her sessions. The blonde couldn’t even remember her name she’d had so little interaction with her. She had a cut across her face and had obviously been in a brawl.

“Did you get a good look at the other three?” she heard Will asking Linda as they wrestled with the woman.

“I think one was the new Proctor woman but they bolted as soon as I arrived” Linda shouted over the inmates own irritated yells. “I could only grab one of them.”

Bridget continued to walk towards them and Will acknowledged her with a nod as the two Guards dragged the inmate passed her. Bridget presumed they were heading to the slots if the inmate had been involved in an altercation. It had been an obvious presumption from hearing Linda’s reply that four women had been fighting and she had broken it up but as she reached the library door she could hear Vera’s voice and she realised there must be a fifth inmate that the Governor was talking to. As Bridget reached the library she stopped in the door way in case any assistance was needed. What she saw made her freeze on the spot.

The inmate Vera was speaking to was Franky and the young inmate looked more than worse for wear. Franky had obviously had the shit kicked out of her but somehow was on her feet, bleeding from a head wound, already bruising and grasping her chest with one arm. The other arm was flung over the acting Governors shoulders and Vera was radioing in to the medical wing to let them know she was on her way with an inmate.

Bridget thought she was going to vomit on the spot at the sight of the brunette so badly beaten. It was a similar feeling to the session in which Franky blurted out her confession about Meg Jackson. She desperately wanted to go to Franky and comfort her but like the previous time in her office she knew that if she dared move towards the inmate she’d crumble and all professional resolve would evaporate.

So if she didn’t dare go to Franky the only other option was to get away to the privacy of her own office where she wasn’t due an appointment for at least half an hour. Vera and Franky were currently stood side on to her and hadn’t seen her so Bridet turned and tried to make her escape down the corridor. As she started to move though she caught the two occupants of the library turning out of the corner of her eye and she knew they must have seen her. It was too late by then though as she was already on the move so she kept on walking, virtually running, until she reached the office.

 Bridget didn’t bother stopping the door from swinging hard behind her, finding some release in the harsh sound of it slamming behind her. It didn’t prevent her from falling apart though and the hot tears began to fall quickly, blinding her with their intensity.  If Franky had been hurt by her avoidance techniques before she would surely be destroyed by them now. Everything was just getting more and more fucked up and Bridget didn’t know if she could bear it any more.

She swept the papers off her desk in frustration. Aggression wasn’t the way she usually dealt with hard emotions but somehow it felt like the only release available to her. When the act of vandalism against her own property didn’t stem the tide she planted her fist in the wall hard enough to open up cracks and cuts on her right knuckle.

It hurt like fuck but it still didn’t hurt as much as seeing Franky bashed and beaten.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 5**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

The first thing Franky was aware of as she woke was that she was in pain. Her head was banging, her face stung and her torso felt like a car had hit her. It felt like far too much effort to even open her eyes so she just lay still and tried to process what had happened. She remembered Kaz Proctor and other inmates cornering her in the library, she remembered trying to fight them off and she remembered Miss Miles and then Miss Bennett coming to her rescue. Other than that she remembered nothing of her trip from the library to medical where she was now. She didn’t need to open her eyes to recognise her environment, she had been there more than enough times to recognise the feel of the bed and the hum of the equipment. That meant that Franky must have passed out when she had tried to walk supported by the acting Governor. The idea was more than a little embarrassing.

Franky heard someone shifting about next to her and tried to open her eyes, groaning at the monumental effort what should be a simple act was taking her. A warm hand grasped her wrist and Franky knew it couldn’t be Nurse Rose as she was a shoulder squeezer. The brunette forced her eyes open, hoping beyond hope that this mystery woman by her bedside was none other than the prison psychologist Bridget Westfall. When they did open she was both surprised and disappointed to find Miss Bennett sat at her bedside and gazing at her with a look of concern.

Of course it wasn’t Bridget. Now that Franky was more awake she remembered the final detail before she must have become unconscious. As Vera had led her towards the library door she had seen the blonde psychologist there and Bridget had sped by and not given her a second look. Franky had already felt on the edge of passing out but that had been the last straw. It had sapped the last bit of her will power she had to stay on her feet.

“How are you feeling?” Miss Bennett asked, shuffling forward in her seat slightly. The acting Governor’s jacket was strewn over the back of the chair and it was clear she had been sat with her for quite some while. Franky was touched by the concern even if it wasn’t from the person she’d have chosen to wake up to.

“Like I was hit by a truck” the inmate admitted.

Franky had intended there to be some sort of humour in her tone but her words fell flat. She didn’t have the energy to be glib and her face hurt to fucking much to crack a smile right now.

“You were pretty badly beaten” Miss Bennett acknowledged. “If it makes you feel any better we found all four culprits. They were quite easy to identify as you’d managed to take one of them to the floor with you so Miss Miles had been able to restrain her. The corridor cameras had picked up the three women she had been with that morning.”

Franky had no beef with the Proctor woman but Cyndi Lou’s ex-gang being slotted was something to be smug about. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d wrestled one of them to the ground as it was all rather fucking hazy. She just remembered hitting the deck after being smacked in the head and trying to kick back at her attackers.

“Nice to know I wasn’t completely creamed” the inmate quipped.  

Franky tried to sit up slightly but her ribs loudly protested and she slumped back onto the medical wing bed. The attempt triggered a coughing fit which hurt as much as the attempt to move did.  Her mouth was dry and the coughs were causing her to heave. Miss Bennett released the inmate’s wrist and got up. When she returned to Franky’s side she had a cup of water with a straw in it.

“Here” the acting Governor instructed as she slipped one hand under the inmates head and held the cup in front of the inmate’s mouth with the other.

Franky grasped the straw between her teeth and slowly began to suck down some of the liquid. At first I didn’t stop or sooth the coughing but after a few mouthfuls they finally subsided and the brunette inmate relaxed.

“Thanks” she acknowledged the acting Governor when she could finally speak again.

Miss Bennett slipped her hand out from under Franky’s head, letting her rest back against the pillow, before placing the cup on the trolley next to the bed. Franky didn’t know how to react to the other woman’s kindness. It had been in short supply over her time in Wentworth yet this was one of several acts over the course of the last week and a half. From supporting Franky in interviews to offering to talk to the parole board for her the acting Governor had been consistent and unwavering in her support.

“I spoke to the parole board” the petite brunette spoke up, as if she had read the inmates mind. “They said they can have the paperwork filed by the end of the week. Then after that it should only be about two to three weeks before your new release date.”

It took several seconds of opened mouth gawping at the acting Governor before it began to sink in that she’d only have to be in Wentworth another month and not the two years she had at first feared. Franky’s initial reaction was joy but it was instantly dampened by the memory of Bridget walking by the library despite the brunette inmate’s clearly distressed state.

 

“In the meantime I think you should consider going in to protective custody” Miss Bennett continued. “With Smith still in the slots the inmates are going to be restless and with your history as a previous top dog you are going to continue to be a target.”

Franky wasn’t surprised by the offer. It was standard procedure to give inmates at high risk of violence the option of going in to protective custody. Liz had been there for a short while after her return to the Correctional Facility and Franky knew that she had been bored senseless. Franky didn’t think she could cope with being isolated from the main part of the prison despite the fact it would be safer for her. Also, any chance she had of finally speaking to Bridget would fly out the window if she agreed and despite her disappointment she wanted the chance to find out why the other woman was acting this way.

 “Thank you Miss Bennett for putting my case across the Parole Board but I don’t want to go into protection” she responded as politely as she could muster. The inmate even tried to crack a smile but it was a weak attempt as he cheeks still ached.

“I can’t make you but I…” the acting Governor began to protest but she stopped abruptly when Franky shook her head, a determined expression on her face. The slight smile on the petite brunette’s face suggested that she had expected Franky’s response. A brief memory of Bridget telling her that her reaction to being provoked by Liz was predictable in one of their sessions flashed to mind. The inmate tried to shake the memory away as quickly as it had arrived.

“Very well” Miss Bennett conceded. “I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

Franky managed another painful smile before the acting Governor picked up her coat off the back of the chair and walked out of the medical wing. The Prison Officers exit left the inmate completely alone with her thoughts. Instantly her brain went straight to the prison psychologist. It seemed that Bridget really was the only thing on her mind at the moment. Franky knew she should be thinking and feeling joy about her impending release but instead the only thing running through her mind was that if the blonde no longer wanted to know her then what was the fucking point. What did parole matter if the one person she had on the outside who mattered to her had abandoned her like everyone else?

The inmate had thought Bridget Westfall was different. She had thought the Forensic Psychologist was the kind of person who you could rely on…who you could trust. Instead it seemed like the blonde was like everyone who had gone before. The going had got tough and she had got going. Just like her father. Just like Erica Davidson. The brunette could feel her eyes watering and she didn’t have the energy any more to fight. Franky turned over on to her side so she was facing away from the door despite her ribs violently protesting the movement. Slow stinging hot tears began to run down her cheeks and the inmate gave in to the emotion and let it happen.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

Bridget’s hand really smarted. She’d never actually hit anything before never mind something solid. She hadn’t expected to cause herself quite so much damage. Luckily she had a very basic first aid kit in her filing cabinet so she had been able to dress her bleeding knuckles herself. Otherwise she’d have had to take a trip to medical and that would be hard to explain away to the nurse. A psychologist who couldn’t hold her emotions and punched walls was hardly an effective or professional looking one.

The chunky bandage had meant that for the rest of the day she had to keep her coat on and try and tuck her hand into the sleeve during her remaining sessions. It was a good thing that all her sessions that day had involved the less observant of the inmates.

It had been almost time to go home when the call had come in from Vera’s secretary for Bridget to ‘pop in’ to the Governor’s office. It didn’t take an intellectual to guess that the topic would be Franky Doyle especially as this conversation was going to occur ‘after hours’. She was sure Vera had seen her escape act in the library corridor this morning and it would have finally alerted the brunette to the fact that Bridget was totally compromised. As the psychologist was walking towards the office she was damn sure Vera was going to admit it was a mistake to bring her back and ask her to resign again. The blonde really couldn’t argue if that was the case.

Bridget was still horrified with herself for her actions. She was even more horrified by the fact Franky had been so violently targeted. The blonde had managed to gleam from a conversation in the corridor between Will Jackson and Rose just a couple of hours ago that Franky was roughed up but there was no serious damage. She hadn’t been able to linger as it would have looked suspicious so hadn’t been able to hear any more of the conversation other than the fact Vera had been sat with the inmate for a while.

When Bridget entered the corridor with the Governor’s office at the end of it she noticed it was deserted. The Secretory had already left so there was no one to buzz her in. When the blonde reached the Governor’s door she knocked twice and waited for a response. She could see Vera beavering away at her desk through the glass window and the brunette glanced up at the sound of the raps.

“Come in Bridget” the acting Governor called out immediately.

 “G’day” the blonde greeted as she pushed the door open to the office and stepped inside.

Vera was sat at her desk scribbling something or other on a pad of paper in front of her. She was using one of Ferguson’s yellow pencils and the others were scattered across the desk. Bridget wondered if Vera had made a mess of them on purpose to spite the former Governor or if it was just coincidental. The Psychologist had certainly taken a great deal of glee out of leaving a stray biro on the well-ordered desk during one of her interactions with the former Governor.

“Hey” the current acting Governor responded. She dropped her pencil onto the pad and leant back in her chair, gesturing with her hand to the seat opposite her.

Bridget followed the silent command and delicately sat herself down on the leather chair, crossing her legs but reclining back in the seat. Vera tapped her fingers against the metal armrest of the Governors chair as she regarded the blonde in silence. The psychologist was used to scrutinizing others not being the object of scrutiny. It made her feel awkward and she sat up more upright in the seat and clasped her hands together over her knee.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how Doyle is?” the acting Governor finally broke the silence. The brunette’s tight lipped smile gave little away about her intentions.

Bridget squirmed slightly in her seat and she could feel the palms of her hands becoming sticky with sweat. She wasn’t sure whether to admit to overhearing Will’s conversation about the inmate or not so in the end she just remained silent. Her lack of conversation caused Vera to quirk her lips more and shake her head.

“She looks a bit worse for wear but she’ll make a quick recovery” the acting Governor continued when it was clear Bridget wasn’t going to respond. “I do think she needs some counselling sessions though.”

“She’s receiving…” Bridget began to point out. She was cut off by the other woman before completing the sentence.

“From you” Vera asserted.

 The blonde felt like she was being backed into a corner. She’d never considered Vera to be devious before but the brunette had very effectively manoeuvred her where she wanted her. Although Bridget didn’t understand why Vera was so keen to have her interact with Franky knowing the two had feelings for each other. There was also the small matter of what others would think.

“What about the rumours?” the Psychologist enquired.

After Kim Chang had screamed her accusations all around the yard and then in the middle of one of Bridget’s group sessions the whole facility had been awash with talk of her and Franky getting down and dirty. The Psychologist had tried to push the rumours aside and continue their sessions but then two things had hit her. Firstly, the rumours could have hindered Franky’s parole hearing if the board got wind of it. Secondly, Kim Chang’s arrival had made her unbearably jealous. So although the rumours were not true in the respect that there was no physical relationship, there was a strong attraction there which Bridget had no longer been able to ignore.

“When you stick a large number of women together there will always be rumours” Vera batted the question away.

Bridget found herself caught between two mind sets, a state she had found herself in constantly since being offered her post back last week. Part of her wanted to argue back and point out that the acting Governor had changed her tune. The psychologist remembered the conversation between the two of them in the mess hall like it was yesterday. Vera had been pretty riled by the rumours back then.

“Franky needs the right person to mentor her and both you and I know that person is you” Vera continued.

The brunette was harking back to their very first conversation about Franky when Bridget had convinced the then Deputy Governor to drop a verbal abuse charge against the inmate. The progress Franky had made from that point on had been noted by most of the Prison Guards. The psychologist knew it wouldn’t be hard for Vera to justify her decision if any of the other staff questioned it.

“I understand that Doyle probably hurt your feelings by not putting you first but you can’t keep punishing her” the acting Governor pressed.

Bridget was caught off guard by the direction Vera was taking the conversation. They had strayed from a professional conversation to a personal one and the brunette was talking to her like Bridget would expect a friend to. Is that what they had become over the last couple of weeks? Did a couple of coffees and a handful of phone calls suddenly mean that after previous conflict they were mates? Granted they had ate lunch together the day before and discussed some more of Bridget’s ideas about reform programmes for the women. Perhaps they had strayed into friend’s territory. Whatever their relationship was to the other it appeared Vera wasn’t quite finished discussing Bridget’s feelings yet.

“You also can’t pretend that not being able to interact with her doesn’t hurt,” the brunette pointed out, “especially if your way of dealing with the distance is to punch my prison walls.”

The psychologist instantly glanced down at her injured hand which now rested against the arm of the chair. During the conversation she had been so distracted that she had totally forgot it existed and her unchecked movement had allowed the sleeves of her jacket to ride up revealing the bandage.

“I…” Bridget began to try and explain the injury away but it was no good; there was no point lying.

Vera was well aware about the second part of Bridget’s inner struggle. She was hurting but she missed the inmate like crazy and wanted to see her. This was the opportunity she needed and despite her misgivings about her ability not to fuck her career up in the end Franky would always come first. No doubt it would take the inmate a bit of time to see that after the way Bridget had kept her distance so far.

“I’ll schedule her in for the morning” the psychologist finally conceded.

Vera’s smile grew victoriously wide but the acting Governor made no comment. The only response the blonde received was a short sharp nod. She was expecting to be dismissed now that the other woman had succeeded in her goals but instead Vera leant forward in the chair to address in conversation again.

“I got to be the bearer of some good news today” the acting Governor suddenly divulged. Bridget thought for a moment that they were changing topics but she was mistaken.

“The board agreed with my assessment that Doyle’s parole should be re-instated. It will take a little time to process but she should be released within a month.”

Vera Bennett’s words caused a cataclysmic change in Bridget’s mood. A month wasn’t a very long time in the scheme of things. It wasn’t long for her to hold onto her professionalism around the brunette inmate. It wasn’t long for Franky to try and keep her head above water and stay out of trouble. Suddenly where there had been despair there was hope. Sure Vera had told her she would speak to the board in Franky’s favour but that by no means had meant the acting Governor would be successful. She let out a deep shaky breath, releasing all the tension she had been holding throughout their meeting. The psychologist felt her defensive posture slipping away and she flopped back into the chair, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.

“That’s great news” she admitted, not bothering to try and hide her relief or happiness at this new information.

When she finally regained enough composure to sit up and open her eyes again she found Vera still posed in exactly the same position smiling at her. It hit her then that the brunette had sat on that information from the start. Information that would have surely had an effect on how Bridget would have approached the conversation. Or perhaps that was the reason Vera had kept quiet until after she had agreed to the sessions. It had ensured that the decision was well thought out and not just a shallow one based on the inmates release date.

“Is that everything?” the blonde asked politely.

Bridget had allowed herself a small reaction to prevent herself having a huge reaction to the news of the inmate’s release. It was a short term fix and all she wanted to do now was get away from work and to the comfort of her own home. There she could break open a bottle of wine and allow this wave of emotion to wash over her in privacy.

“Yes of course” Vera replied pleasantly. “Good night Bridget.”

“G’Night” the psychologist replied as she stood up from her seat.

She didn’t look back as she made her way over to the door way and out into the deserted corridor. If she had of done she’d have seen the acting Governor’s amused smile and shake of the head.

 

 

 

 

**I promise you lots of Franky and Bridget interaction from now in!**

-          **Darkshines1984 x**


	6. Chapter 6

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 6**

****

**_Franky POV_ **

 

After nearly twenty hours in the medical wing Franky was bored senseless. She’d managed to sleep in fits and starts but she had been awake for huge chunks of time with only concrete walls to look at. That wasn’t a novelty in Wentworth but at least in H block she’d have had a book to entertain herself with. Rose had popped in and out all day long to check on her but the night shift nurse had barely strung together a sentence in her direction.

With nothing to distract her from her thoughts she had lay in the dark contemplating her life; past, present and future. It was the most reflective she had been in a long time. Over the past few weeks in the run up to her aborted parole she had given her time in Wentworth a lot of thought and the mistakes she had made there; but last night her mind had delved back further. It had been a long time since she had let herself reflect on her childhood.

Although the beating didn’t help matters the inmate mostly blamed Bridget Westfall for her raw and contemplative state of mind. If she hadn’t pressed her so hard, forcing the brunette to open up and admit her deepest secret, then Franky would still have a handle on her tumultuous emotions. Instead she was tore apart and raw and the tear only grew deeper and wider with every passing hour that the psychologist was in the same facility as her but avoiding her.

It was now just after nine in the morning and Franky wanted up and out of the medical wing but doubted she’d have her wish granted just yet. She was currently dosed up on painkillers that had come into full effect about half an hour before and although they didn’t remove all her aches completely the inmate at least felt it made them bearable. It was her head that was smarting the most. The ribs and other bruises were uncomfortable but the gash on her head which now bore itchy uncomfortable butterfly stitches was throbbing despite the medication. Given the way her brain had churned over everything again and again all night long though the pain from the wound was probably amplified by a stress headache.

One of the screws had brought her breakfast at eight which the inmate had picked at for a while before pushing aside. She had no appetite at all despite skipping lunch and her evening meal the day before. Franky had been grateful for the disposable toothbrush that was delivered the same time as breakfast though as her mouth had tasted bloody disgusting. It had been awkward trying to brush her teeth whilst semi reclined and the whole spit cup thing was gross but at least now she could taste peppermint not blood.

The prison guard at breakfast had been the last one she expected to see for a while so she was surprised when Mr Fletcher, the current acting Deputy Governor, and Nurse Rose strolled in to her temporary accommodation. He was carrying a canvas laundry bag which he deposited on the chair the second he walked in the room.

“She’s probably too sore to move at the moment…” she could hear the Nurse say as they entered.

Mr Fletcher didn’t seem to register her words and his attention honed in straight on the inmate. Franky pushed herself up onto her elbows, curious to know why he was there and where he was planning on moving her to. She had a niggling half fear at the back of her mind that Miss Bennett would go and put her in protection regardless of her wishes.

“Hey Doyle” the burly blond prison guard greeted. “I’m instructed to escort you to your appointment if you are okay to go for a walk?”

Franky had no idea to which appointment he was referring and at this moment in time she didn’t really care. It had to be better than lying in the sterile room any longer even if it turned out to be another appointment with the miserable Chief Inspector Wilson.

“If it gets me out of this box for a while Sir then sure” Franky said with as much gusto as she could muster up.

Mr Fletcher didn’t respond but picked up the canvas bag again and tossed it onto the end of her bed. It landed with a soft thud next to her lower leg and the brunette realised it was a bag of clothing he must have got Boomer or someone to pack for her. She could hardly go strolling around the prison in her prison issue pyjama’s she’d been helped into the day before. 

Once he’d left the room to give her some privacy with Nurse Rose hot on his heels Franky began the painful process of climbing out of the bed. The worst bit after a beating was always the first part where you swing your legs around and off the bed. The twisting motion hurts like buggery as does the second part of the movement when you have to sit upright on the edge of the bed. It felt like sit up number one hundred when your abs burn and your body literally shakes from the effort. Once she’d completed that part the bit where she actually stood up was easy albeit a bit nauseating for a few seconds.

The feeling passed quickly enough and once the inmate was sure she was steady on her feet she let go of the edge of the bed and tipped the contents of the bag onto the covers.

It was just her normal prison issue teal sweat pants, zip up hoodie and white vest top as well as here lime green underwear. Boomer, or whoever had packed for her had thoughtfully packed matching lime green socks for her. The sentiment would have been nice if there was a pair of shoes in sight. The idea of walking around in neon socks was unappealing but not as unappealing as delaying her exit from the medical wing whilst Mr Fletcher went in search of her footwear.

The removal of the pyjama top was easy as it was a button up shirt and putting on the bra and vest top was manageable. The underwired bra was pressing against one of her many bruises so she had to take them both off again and discard the bra for now, something that her hoodie would hopefully hide. The lower half of her body was a far harder and excruciating challenge but after a struggle she was dressed in her fresh underwear and sweat pants. That only left her socks; they provided even more of a challenge. So much so that Rose must have heard her grunts from outside and silently came in, helped her slip the offending articles on and walked back out again without uttering a word. Franky was grateful for the lack of fuss as it was embarrassing as fuck not to be able to dress one’s self.

The inmate then gingerly began to walk towards the door where Mr Fletcher was waiting for her. If he noticed her lack of proper footwear he didn’t comment and they began to make their way down the corridor. The acting Deputy Governor walked a few steps ahead of her but at a reasonable pace considering her injuries. They were not heading in the direction of the interview room so it probably wasn’t anything to do with the Jess Warner investigation. Franky presumed she was going to see Miss Bennett, no doubt to be probed about yesterday’s attack. However when they got to the end of the H block corridors Mr Fletcher turned right not left which meant they were now going in the wrong direction for the Governor’s office.

They were now heading in the direction of the library. It would be strange for Miss Bennett to meet her there, or for anyone else to meet her there. Unless it was a meeting with her law tutor of course but then she doubted they would get her up out of her sick bed for that. The only other option was both too terrifying and too wonderful for the inmate to dare hope for.

“Where are we going?” Franky enquired, trying to keep the hope and uncertainty out of her voice but failing pretty spectacularly.

“Miss Westfall’s office” Mr Fletcher responded without bothering to look back at her.

Franky was glad that he didn’t look back and that the corridor was empty as she was sure all the colour had drained from her face at having her suspicions confirmed. Yes she was desperate to see Bridget and to talk to her but she was also desperately hurt and desperately angry with her. The conflicting emotions made her feel physically sick yet despite the aches and pains she found her pace suddenly quickening.

When injured it was actually quite a long walk from medical to the psychologists office and by the time Franky and Mr Fletcher reached Bridget’s door the brunette was sweating profusely, dry mouthed and out of breath. Added to the nasty red gash across her head and a huge purple bruise on her jaw line she probably looked like shit. The only positive she could think of was that she had managed to protect her face from virtually all the blows with her hands and didn’t have a black eye or fat lip. She didn’t even get a moment to compose herself before the acting Deputy Governor was knocking on Bridget’s door.

“G’day” the psychologist called her trademark greeting. The sound of her voice made Franky’s heart rate soar and she barely noticed Mr Fletcher opening the door for her. She entered the room on autopilot, only snapping back to reality when the door closed loudly and right behind her.

As the inmate looked up from the floor Bridget stood up from her desk and smiled at her. It was an awkward smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes; eyes that looked tired despite the older woman’s attempt to hide the evidence with make-up. Despite the fact she looked like she hadn’t slept well Bridget looked stunning. The blonde was wearing her grey zip up jacket and black skinny jeans. It left the inmate frustrated with herself for feeling an instant swell of desire despite how the other woman had acted in the previous days.

“Franky” Bridget greeted her more specifically. “Take a seat.”

The blonde turned her back immediately and walked towards the water dispenser in the back corner behind the desk. Franky remained routed to the spot. The initial shock of looking upon the blonde again was wearing off which meant the anger was now more predominant. Now the defensive heckles were rising Franky was more comfortable standing than sitting. At least it gave her a bit more space. For now she resorted to just leaning back against the door and letting it support her weight a bit.

 “Do you want a glass of water?” Bridget asked.

Franky didn’t respond but she noted that the other woman picked out two cups anyway. The brunette wondered if this act was prompted by her own breathless appearance or Bridget’s need to compose herself.

When both glasses were full Bridget turned back towards her and Franky spotted a flash of a hesitant look when the psychologist had realised she was still standing. It was gone again as quick as it came, replaced by a blank mask. When the older woman approached and handed the cup out to her she gave the inmate plenty of breathing room. Franky had to extend her arm full length to grasp it and Bridget instantly stepped back and retreated to her seat. It wasn’t out of fear, Franky could see that, but out of respect for her personal space knowing that the inmate was pissed with her.

“How are you feeling after the fight?” the psychologist asked after sitting down.

Franky felt every muscle in her body tense.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

Bridget had never been a heavy sleeper, usually only five or six hours a night at most. However last night’s paltry total of two hours was not enough to function at full capacity at the best of times never mind when you were about to plunge into an emotionally draining situation.

From the moment Franky entered the psychologist’s office Bridget could see that the inmate was on edge. The brunette was bruised, out of breath and held herself in a way that suggested she was in a lot of pain yet she was trying not to let it show. Despite Franky’s dishevelled appearance and fidgety state Bridget still felt her heart race at the very sight of her.

In an attempt to compose herself the blonde had turned away to get the inmate a glass of water, hoping the gesture would go a little way to soften the brunette. When she turned back the younger woman was still stood by the closed door. As of yet Franky hadn’t said a word and it was obvious her guard was completely thrown up. Bridget could tell her actions over the past couple of days had smashed into the trust they had built up with the force of a truck. She half expected the inmate to refuse the cup of water she was holding out to her or throw it back in her face. In the end Franky did neither, just silently reached for the cup before slumping back against the wall.

“How are you feeling after the fight?” the psychologist asked after she had settled in her seat.

Bridget wanted to look the brunette in the eye as she spoke but her glance naturally drifted off to the right. It was hard to look Franky in the eye when she looked so hurt yet defiant. It made Bridget feel like a liar, sitting there trying to address her like she was any other inmate, when in fact she had all these complicated feelings swimming around her head.

“I’m not sure fight is the right word” the inmate finally responded. “I pretty much just lay there and took a beating.”

Bridget felt her heart slam to a halt. That was a little tit bit she didn’t know and now wished she could forget. Why wouldn’t the brunette have put up a proper fight? Surely Franky wasn’t so low that she wanted those other inmates to finish her off. Hadn’t Vera said that she had told the younger woman about her new release date? Bridget’s head spun from this new piece of information. If she could just focus she could probably reason out Franky’s motives on her own.

“Why?” she gave up and asked the inmate.

The young brunette tilted her head and looked at her with an intense stare. It was an expression Bridget was familiar with from when they first started their sessions. It wasn’t quite a glare, more a look of distrust and a sign of Franky’s inner turmoil. During their first session Bridget had thought it summed the inmate up as much as her dream exit. It was anger and hope. There was so much frustration boiling at the surface yet Franky had clearly wanted to believe that Bridget meant well. By the time the inmate had reached her parole hearing most of that frustration had bled away but now she was at boiling point again. It was heart wrenching to think that they had fallen back that far even though Bridget knew it was mostly her own fault.

“I didn’t want to fuck up my chance of parole” the brunette replied after a long pause.

“It’s a pity that wasn’t your mind-set on the eve of your last parole date,” Bridget’s response came tumbling out of her mouth before she had a chance to process it. She regretted it the second she finished the sentence especially when the inmates face contorted in irritation before falling back into her well-worn impassive mask. It had been completely unprofessional and screamed of her own frustrations and emotions.

Franky took a pained step away from the wall in her direction but then stopped again. The brunette glanced back at the door like she may just turn around and leave. As much as Bridget had avoided this moment over the last couple of days she knew she wouldn’t be able to just sit and watch the inmate walk away. Luckily Franky turned back towards her of her own accord but her expression was no kinder.

“Why am I here?” the brunette asked.

Bridget baulked at the question. If she told Franky that the Governor had asked her to speak to her then it would surely be the last nail in their coffin. Yet she was a useless liar; her body language always gave her away if she tried. An inability to look the other person in the eye, glancing right…all stereotypical signs of an untruth that she looked for as a psychologist. In the end Bridget plummeted for what she presumed to be a safe answer as it wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth.

“The last couple of weeks must have been really hard for you so I thought you might like to talk about it” the blonde replied quietly. Too quietly. Her words lacked conviction and she knew the inmate would be sharp enough to pick up on it. For the first time since Franky entered the room the wall dropped and a look of ire flashed across the inmates face.

“You haven’t been interested in talking to me since your return. In fact it’s been quite the fucking opposite” the tattooed brunette snapped.

The inmate looked back towards the door again and Bridget was sure she was about to bolt. The blonde grasped at the arm of her armchair, desperately trying to supress the urge to run to the younger woman and physically stop her. _Act like a goddamn professional_ she reminded herself. _Talk to her_. _Reason with her_.

“Franky please sit down and let me explain” she implored.

Her words seemed to fall upon deaf ears and the brunette remained standing just inches away from the escape route. Franky wrapped her arms around her chest defensively and shifted her weight from one foot to another.

“You walked past the library, I saw you” the inmate accused the psychologist. “So don’t pretend you fucking care now.”

Franky’s words cut like a knife and Bridget wondered if the brunette really believed that she didn’t care or if the inmate was just lashing out. Bridget could understand why some doubt might have set in but the older woman had hoped that her past actions would count for something in Franky’s eyes.

“I trusted you” the inmate continued as Bridget struggled to find words to counter her with.

The psychologist rubbed her hands across her face in frustration, forgetting her bandaged knuckles as her stress levels rose. It was only when the brunette gasped that she realised her mistake and snatched her hands back down to the level of the arm of the chair. It was too late; the brunette had seen the bandage and within two large strides the brunette was stood right in front of her, virtually on top of the blonde.

Bridget gasped as the inmate grasped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet. It wasn’t rough but it was totally inappropriate for the brunette to manhandle her that way. Bridget could barely think never mind act as the sensation of having Franky face to face just inches away was intoxicating. Those sensations only increased when the inmate grasped her damaged hand gently and lifted it, holding it between them with one hand whilst she ran the other lightly over the bandage. The gentle contact felt like a salve against her wounds.

“Franky” the inmates name slipped out as the older woman gasped at the caress.

The younger woman continued to focus all her attention on Bridget’s hand. The psychologist was relieved that Franky was so distracted by her injury because she had no control over her emotions right now and she was sure it was written all over her face.

“I don’t understand how you could walk on by” the brunette mumbled.

Franky’s eye line started to shift upwards as she spoke so Bridget slammed her eyes shut to try and distance herself from the conversation and hide her raging emotions. She felt physically sick at the inmate’s words and the disappointed tone they were delivered in. Franky felt abandoned and betrayed and what felt worse was that she had every fucking right to feel that way.

“You need to stop” Bridget grimaced.

She wasn’t entirely sure whether she was asking the inmate to stop talking, stop looking at her or to stop the physical contact. She just knew she needed some sort of reprieve from this emotionally wrought situation. Instead of backing off the brunette only seemed to get closer and Bridget could feel the inmate’s warm breath caressing her cheek. The hand Franky had grasped within her own was trapped in the small space between them which meant Bridget’s arm was pressed against Franky’s chest. Even through her own coat and Franky’s hooded top she could feel the brunette’s body heat.

“Answer me” Franky ordered; frustration rising again in her voice. “If it hurt enough to pummel a wall then tell me how you could walk on by?”

The psychologist knew she couldn’t just stand there with her eyes closed any longer. She had to act to remove herself completely from the situation and give herself some time to process the session before trying again. When she opened her eyes and saw the desperate look on the younger woman’s face her heart broke a little bit more. Franky’s eyes were watery, like she was seconds away from breaking into tears. The psychologist had to look away because she knew if she held the brunette’s gaze she would capitulate.

“You need to go” Bridget begged. “This is totally inapprop…”

Her words caught in her throat and she came to a crashing halt. The problem was that she needed Franky to leave but she didn’t want her to. What she wanted was to do was clasp her hands around the younger woman’s cheeks and kiss her over and over again. She wanted Franky to know that she was loved. She wanted to kiss those tears which were threatening to overspill into oblivion. Bridget didn’t have the fight in her to force the inmate out of her office.

 “Gidget” Franky’s voice quivered.

The use of the pet name the younger woman had assigned her caused Bridget’s eyes to dart to the inmate’s. Franky was impossibly close and Bridget was hopelessly close to throwing away her entire career.

Vera’s demand that she remain professional whilst Franky was still incarcerated flashed across the psychologists synapses. It seemed to kick start the rational part of her brain again and she stumbled backwards away from the inmate, pulling her hand out of the younger woman’s grasp. The action caused a burning sensation in her injured knuckles as Franky wasn’t expecting the movement and didn’t release her grip.

The younger woman looked hurt and confused by the sudden movement away from her and went to close the distance between them again. Bridget did the only thing she could think of to put a stop to the situation right there and then. She sidestepped the inmate and bolted out of her own office, letting the door slam shut behind her as she made her escape. The female prison officer who was lurking down the corridor keeping an eye on the library gave her a baffled look as Bridget speed walked in her direction.

“Can you escort Doyle back to medical please, I really don’t feel well,” Bridget barked without halting.

The blonde didn’t stop walking until she reached the safety of the female staff toilet at the other end of the corridor. Once inside she collapsed back against the wall and tried to regain her composure. Her heart was beating twice as fast as normal, the artery in her temple was throbbing and she could barely breathe. It appeared her excuse to the guard wasn’t a total lie; the stress of the confrontation with Franky made her reach for the pan of the toilet and hurl up the contents of her breakfast.


	7. Chapter 7

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 7**

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**_Franky POV_ **

 

Franky lay in her thin prison bunk and stared up at the grey ceiling. She had visually mapped out every tiny crack time and time again over the last few months. Usually this happened when she couldn’t sleep at night but it was currently only just past ten in the morning.

The inmate had spent the last two days and nights in medical, apart from a brief and disastrous trip out to Bridget Westfall’s office, and had only been released after breakfast this morning. She was still in a world of pain but she was mobile and couldn’t bear to spend another minute in the sterile medical wing.

The first time she entered H2 the others were still at breakfast so she gathered a fresh uniform and towel before dragging herself to the shower block. It was a risk to go wandering alone but as no one knew she was out of medical yet there was little chance of anyone coming looking for her. Besides she was desperate to stand under the water and figuratively wash away the shit from the last couple of days as well as literally. It didn’t matter that the scolding hot water and shower gel caused the few cuts she had to sting like hell.

It had been a common retreat for her when things were fucked up even when she was a child. The running water hid any tears and washed them away. It was a way of pretending she was still strong and that she hadn’t in fact just broke down and cried. It was a much needed relief to finally let them spill over after holding them in since the previous morning. It was cathartic. A bit like fucking yourself when you were all wound up…just less pleasurable.

On entering H2 for the second time she had briefly said hello to Boomer, Doreen, little Josh, Sophie and Liz who had all returned from breakfast. The older of the Birdsworth’s had fussed over her a little and made her a coffee before letting her retreat to her cell. The brunette had been touched by their concern but was glad to escape their gaze and have some privacy. She hadn’t slept well at all the night before and felt physically and emotionally drained. The physical element was down to exhaustion and the beating she had taken but most of the mental element was due to the ‘counselling’ session the day before.

Franky had never before felt as bewildered as she was after Bridget Westfall stormed out of her own office leaving Franky stood like a lemon. The inmate had been mad at her and she had been fuelled by that anger, hurt and a deep sense of betrayal when pressing the older woman for answers. It had taken her by surprise when the usually stoic psychologist had emotionally capitulated in front of her eyes. Bridget had always been good at hiding her emotions and Franky previously had to just observe her closely and look for the little chinks in the armour. Those little moments when the blonde’s guard went down and she smiled a bit too broadly, or flirted slightly, or glanced at Franky’s lips. It hadn’t been a little moment the day before though. It had been a monumentally huge moment and a sign that Bridget Westfall truly did have feelings for her despite the distance she had been keeping.

She was still hurt and angry, those emotions hadn’t vanished just yet. However they had now been matched by a renewed sense of hope that they still had a future together. If Franky could just keep her head above water then she would be out in a month. It didn’t sound like long but in prison time ticked by painfully slowly especially when you are under constant risk of fucked up shit happening to you.

As she lay there and pondered the situation with Gidget there was a sudden sharp rap on her door, causing her to jump slightly. The inmate gasped in pain at the sudden movement but managed to compose herself as the door swung open to reveal Miss Miles. The blonde screw looked as bored and emotionally void as ever. Franky wondered what the fuck she had done to deserve the interruption to her peace and quiet.

“Up Doyle” the irritable prison officer demanded without any preamble or greeting.

Franky was sore but she hadn’t had a personality transplant or a lobotomy and she couldn’t resist irritating the blonde. Pissing off Miss Miles had been a favourite past time of hers for quite some time. It was just too easy and too irresistible.

“Why?” she asked, plastering her trademark smirk across her face and pulling a tongue. The expression made the gash on her temple smart a bit but it was worth it just to see the dramatic roll of the screws eyes.

“You have an appointment with Miss Westfall" the uniformed woman informed her.

Franky tried to keep the cocky expression on her face despite her surprise, determined not to let the screw see her react to the news. It made Franky a lot less interested in annoying the blonde officer and much more interested in why the blonde psychologist would want to see her again so soon. The day before had been an utter fucking disaster right?

“I saw her yesterday…” the words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them.

If the screw noticed anything strange in Franky’s tone there was no visual sign of it. She was probably too disinterested to give a fuck anyway. Instead the other woman just looked pissed off with the world and everyone in it.

“She had to cut it short because she was sick or something” Miss Miles snapped at her. “I don’t know and I don’t care so just move for crying out loud.”

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

Bridget Westfall had never walked out of a session leaving a patient still stood in her office in twenty years in the profession. Inmates had threatened her both verbally and physically but she had always stood her ground and talked them down. Yet by just making physical contact with her, Franky Doyle had thrown the psychologist in such a loop that she was left with no other option than to bolt. No other sane option anyway.

It had played on her mind all evening and she had replayed the whole conversation over in her mind again and again. The blonde had downed a bottle of red wine in her attempt to pick apart the events of their session and figure out what she could have said or done better. In the end she realised that she had tried to be too guarded with the inmate and that Franky would have appreciated open honesty more. In fact Bridget, in her frustration, had handled everything badly since the moment she had stepped foot back in Wentworth Correctional Facility. She should have just spoke to the inmate on the first day and set some honest boundaries whilst the brunette was still incarcerated. Instead she had acted selfishly because of her own dented feelings and made Franky hurt too.

This night of deep reflection had led to her asking for the younger woman to be brought to her office for an unscheduled appointment the next morning. The decision had been made whilst tanked up on wine the night before at which point it had seemed like the simplest thing in the world. However, now Bridget was stood waiting for the brunette to arrive it suddenly felt a lot more complex and terrifying. What if Franky was still mad and refused to talk to her? How would the psychologist diffuse the situation if the inmate refused to sit down and interact with her? It wasn’t until she heard movement in the corridor outside her office that she made a decision with how to approach the conversation.

The blonde sat down on her usual armchair to the left hand side and rested her head against the back of her chair. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to muster up as much composure as possible. There was a knock on the door and she responded by calling out for them to come in. Bridget kept her eyes closed as the door opened and then shut again. Once she was sure the two of them would now be alone she opened her eyes to find Franky stood between the doorway and the spare arm chair wearing a blank expression.

Bridget slid forward so she was sat on the very edge of her seat and gestured towards the one opposite her, smiling at the inmate as she did so. The brunette looked lost and almost childlike as she mulled over whether or not to remain standing or take a seat. It was a relief for Bridget to finally see some emotion in the inmate’s eyes and a positive sign the younger woman wasn’t lost to her.

“Come on Franky…please” Bridget pleaded.

The brunette hesitated for a second or two before moving to take a seat. Bridget could still see uncertainty in Franky’s eyes but she could also see hope. The inmate was still wary though and sat down in a defensive position, pressed right back in the chair with her legs tucked under her. The psychologist knew that she had to find a way to engage with the younger woman so she was less tense.

“Hey come here” Bridget encouraged.

The blonde reached out across the space between them and grasped Franky’s knees, tugging the inmate’s legs out from under her again and drawing them towards her. The brunette looked confused but shuffled forward in the seat so she was also perched just on the edge like Bridget. There was still a little gap between them but they were much closer now and it felt more intimate.

“I’m sorry for the way I have acted this week” the older woman apologised now she was sure she had the inmate’s attention. “It’s been hard coming back here whilst you are still incarcerated and I thought the way to deal with that was to try and treat you like any other inmate. I know I have hurt you and confused you but I need you to know that I do still care about you deeply.”

So many emotions played out across the brunette’s face that Bridget found it impossible to keep up with them and read the inmates mood. She was disappointed that in the end Franky’s expression stilled on one of her hardened, straight talking looks. The younger woman was still trying to remain on her guard and shut her out.

“What does that mean?” Franky asked, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Does that mean you still want to fuck me or what? I thought I had you figured but now…”

Franky’s voice trailed off and she turned her face towards the window of the office, breaking eye contact with Bridget. The psychologist could still see enough of her face though to notice that the brunette’s pretty eyes were shining with unshed tears. The broken look on the younger woman’s face felt like a tornado ripping apart Bridget’s chest. She had always felt saddened by witnessing Franky looking low, it had been an early indicator that the inmate was more important to her than just a patient. Knowing she was the cause though….it absolutely destroyed her.

“I’ve never wanted to just fuck you Franky” the older woman implored. On instinct she reached out and grasped both the brunette’s hands in her own. Franky looked surprised by the contact and her gaze dropped from the window to the clasped hands in the space between them.  Bridget could tell that the younger woman was looking at the scabbed over cuts on her knuckles from two days previously.

“Problem is Franky…until you are outside of this facility you are still my patient and I have a duty of care towards you. Nothing can happen between us. I let my guard down previously because I knew you would make parole soon…now it’s become almost impossible to try and put any kind of boundary back in place again.”

Bridget had spent the entire time she spoke gazing down at their adjoined hands too, trying not to let the feel of the inmates warm and soft skin completely distract her. Despite her focus being elsewhere she didn’t miss the frustrated glance the brunette threw her way. She didn’t have time to interpret it.

“Is that your excuse for ignoring me when I needed you?” Franky asked as soon as the psychologist had finished speaking.

Bridget could feel the tension radiating off the inmate. It was clear it would take Franky some time to forgive her for what had happened over the last few days and the blonde knew that the inmate had every right to be wary and a little angry. The one thing she had managed to provide Franky with previously was a consistency that the young brunette had always lacked previously. She had tried to help her when others wouldn’t and gave her hope. She had kept Franky’s dark secret when really she should have informed someone. She had been forced into a corner and had to stop their sessions but had been honest and explained why. She had attended her parole hearing despite being booted from her job at the facility because of her bond with the inmate. This was the first time she’d really let the brunette down. It made Bridget mad with herself so it was only fair she accepted Franky’s wrath.

“No” Bridget confessed. “No rightly or wrongly I have been angry with you for landing yourself in here for longer and I’ve taken that anger out on you by avoiding you.”

The blonde was trying to be open and honest about how she felt and why she had acted in the way she did but her words just seemed to make the inmate tenser. Franky pulled their hands apart, causing a sharp pain in Bridget’s bruised and cut knuckles, and jumped to her feet.

“Angry with me for saving the life of a fucking kid?” the inmate spat out as she backed a couple of steps away towards the door.

Bridget was usually calm. She rarely had one of those rash moments where she reacted and spoke without thinking it through first. However her frustration at the situation she had found herself in spilled over suddenly and there was a flash of anger. Before Bridget really knew what was happening she was on her feet too and right in front of the young brunette.

“Fucking hell Franky do you think it is easy for me going home to an empty house knowing you could be there with me?! How the fuck do you think I felt when I was told to turn around and drive home because you’d fucked your parole over to play hero?! Did you even think about me at all when you made any of the decisions you made that night?!”

As the words spilled out she could see Franky’s expression turn from anger to surprise before plummeting. By the time Bridget finished the brunette looked utterly crestfallen.

“You came to pick me up?” the inmate asked, her voice little more than a whisper. They were both rooted to the spot, eyes locked, only separated by the smallest of spaces.

Franky looked vulnerable and crushed and when the younger woman looked vulnerable it always fucked Bridget up and made her sad. It made her sadder still that the brunette seemed genuinely surprised by the revelation. The psychologist thought despite the watching eyes she had been clear in her intentions towards Franky in the library and then later by turning up at the parole hearing even after losing her job. Franky had always seemed so goddamn sure and cocky about Bridget’s attraction to her previous to the psychologist being unceremoniously shoved out of Wentworth. Did she really think that Bridget would just walk away and forget her?

“If you really need to ask me that then I have no idea what we are doing here” the blonde eventually replied.

Bridget’s voice cracked in the final couple of words as her emotions threatened to spill over completely. Any anger she felt had now given way to a gloomy low feeling that made her feel weighed down and weak. Despite how desolate she felt it still surprised her when she felt a trail of liquid run down her right cheek and then another and another. She closed her eyes to try and stem the tide but it was no use.

“Bridget” the inmate gasped her name.

The blonde wasn’t used to letting others see her emotions or weaknesses but Franky was right there in front of her and couldn’t miss the tears. Strong hands smoothed across Bridget’s upper arms and clasped them, drawing her forward and against the supple body of the inmate. Bridget could feel the warmth of Franky’s body emanating through their clothing and despite her tears the feeling drove her insane. It was comforting and she wanted to sink in to the younger woman and stay there forever, never letting go. However the whole situation was highly inappropriate and Bridget tried to cling to the remnants of her self-control by pushing the inmate away with her two hands on the brunette’s stomach. She could feel the muscle tone through the vest top the inmate was wearing. Bridget had often lay awake at night imagining what it would be like to touch the younger woman. She knew Franky would have great muscle tone from all the exercising and weights she did but those fantasies hadn’t prepared her for the feel of the real thing. As Franky took a dejected step backwards her abdominal muscles flexed under Bridget’s hands and all the blood in Bridget’s body rushed in the opposite direction of her brain.

That little bit of remaining self-control she had been clinging to vanished into the ether as her body reacted to the rush of desire she felt. Her hands, which hand been flat against the brunette’s stomach, grasped roughly at Franky’s hips and hauled the other woman back towards her. The inmate came without protest and their lips crashed together in a desperate kiss. The tide that Bridget had been swimming against felt like it had finally caught her and washed her away. She was kissing the inmate like the world was ending or her life depended on it…but the heart-stoppingly amazing thing was that Franky was returning the kiss with as much need and vigour; her hands all over Bridget’s back and shoulders.

The older woman was lost in a sea of sensation as their lips collided again and again. When the brunette’s tongue came into contact with her own for the first time Bridget let out what could only be described as a growl. It only encouraged Franky further and the inmate pressed her back a step so she was wedged between the desk and the younger woman. The feeling of the inmates body pressed against every inch of her front was both incredible and unbearable. There were too many layers between them and their bare skin. She was desperate to feel Franky and it was fogging her better judgement.

In an aroused haze she managed to press her hands between their bodies and under the brunette’s singlet. Muscles flexed and quivered under her touch as she ran her hands all over the younger woman’s abdomen, forgetting about the bruises that must be present from the beating the inmate had taken. If it hurt Franky showed no signs of it bothering her. Most of the skin was smooth but the blonde could feel the litany of small cigarette burn scars she had read about in the inmates file. The moan Franky let out at the contact was almost primal and she started to unzip Bridget’s grey jacket. Despite how much she wanted the younger woman the sound of the zip knocked Bridget back to her senses. If she didn’t put a stop to this now they would end up fucking against the desk and probably getting caught. She knew the second Franky’s hands touched bare skin she would be too far fucking gone to stop.

The hands that had been mapping the inmate’s skin became the only thing that could put a distance between them and she pushed the younger woman back a step to give her some breathing space to regroup. Franky stumbled backwards, caught by surprise, but too aroused to realise the significance. Bridget could see the desire the brunette felt for her written all over Franky’s face and it was exhilarating. They were both terribly wound up and gasping for oxygen; chests heaving. It was hard to muster the willpower to put her hands out and prevent Franky stepping back into kissing her again but somehow the blonde managed it.

“Stop” Bridget instructed breathlessly, closing her eyes in an attempt to regain some control.  “I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry.”

The younger woman grasped her wrists and gently tugged them down to her sides, removing the barrier between them. Bridget could sense her stepping closer again even though Franky made no other physical contact other than the hands wrapped around her own. She didn’t dare open her eyes because she feared that if she looked into the brunette’s eyes she would just capitulate on the spot.

“This can’t happen whilst you are here” the psychologist pleaded.

It wasn’t meant to sound like she was begging the inmate to stop, there was meant to be an element of authority in her tone but the intention hadn’t made it into reality. For a moment she thought her pleading had fallen on deaf ears as Franky moved closer still. She could feel the younger woman’s warm breath against her lips and she steeled herself in preparation for the attempted kiss. It never came. Instead the brunette gently pressed her forehead against Bridget’s own and relaxed her grip on the blonde’s wrists, slipping her hands into Bridget’s and interlocking their fingers. She could feel the butterfly stitches from the younger woman’s head wound but it didn’t seem to be bothering the inmate.

“I know” Franky sighed.

The blonde dared to open her eyes now that the inferno that had been engulfing them seemed to have calmed. The inmate’s chest was still heaving slightly, as was Bridget’s own, but it was the only thing that gave away the previous tension. Franky’s eyes were closed, there was a slight smile on her lips and there was a look of absolute serenity on her face. Bridget had never seen her so calm nor had she seen her look so damn beautiful. It gave the psychologist a flash of what a non-incarcerated Franky would look like…not having to keep up appearances or look over her shoulder all the time; and of what their life could look like if they could just show some control for another few weeks.

“Not here…Not yet” Franky mumbled, repeating words previously used by Bridget weeks before in the library.

The brunette pulled back as she spoke so their temples were no longer pressed together. Bridget missed the contact immediately; even more so when inmate released her hands too. The psychologist did not have to long for her touch again for long though as Franky raised her right arm and delicately stroked Bridget’s jaw with the pad of her thumb. The tenderness of the action coupled with the younger woman’s shining, hopeful blue eyes made Bridget’s heart pound so hard she felt like it would burst out her chest.

“I can live with that” Franky said softly as she continued to caress the blonde’s jaw line. “As long as between these four walls you spend some of the time talking to me like someone who wants to get to know me and not just a fucking shrink.”

It was a very reasonable request and an appealing one at that. Given the fact Vera had scheduled the other people affected by the fire in for two sessions a week Bridget had a precedent to see Franky twice a week as well. Two hours was barely anytime at all but it was better than nothing. Without prying eyes they could talk about anything they wanted. Bridget knew all these horrible details about the brunette’s childhood and she knew Franky as a person and personality; yet she knew virtually nothing about what Franky enjoyed or didn’t enjoy. She longed to know simple little details like the brunette’s favourite colour or favourite dish to cook.

“I’d like that” Bridget agreed.

The brunette’s face lit up and she smiled broadly at the psychologist. Her enthusiasm was epidemic and Bridget couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“I haven’t quite forgiven you yet you know?” Franky admitted; the smile never left her face though.

“I know” Bridget replied calmly. “I haven’t forgiven me either.”

Franky let out a single low chuckle at the psychologist’s acknowledgement. She reached up with her other hand and cupped both of Bridget’s cheeks, gazing into her eyes briefly, before releasing her completely and stepping back. The blonde wondered what Franky had been looking for in her gaze and if the inmate had found it there.

“I should probably go and take a cold shower or something” the younger woman quipped, smoothing down her bunched up singlet with the palm of her hands.

Bridget’s hands had followed the same route just minutes before and the memory of how the brunette felt underneath them made her mouth dry. Adding to that the mental imagery of Franky standing unclothed under a stream of cold water left Bridget terribly aroused again. The blonde stepped back and leant against the desk, smoothing her own clothes down as she moved.

“Uh-huh” was the only reply Bridget managed to utter.

Franky smirked at the obvious affect her words had on the psychologist but she didn’t pass comment. Instead she turned and made her way to the door, stopping before opening it and turning back towards the blonde.

“Better get out that appointment book of yours and pencil me in Gidge” she teased, before opening the door and sauntering out.

Bridget sighed into the empty room. Franky really was like a hurricane but the psychologist loved being in the eye of her storm. The inmate certainly wasn’t the only one who could do with that cold shower.


	8. Chapter 8

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 8**

****

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Having your stay extended in a women’s correctional facility, even for just a matter of weeks, was disheartening enough. For Franky, seeing other people leaving on parole whilst she was still locked up was desolating. So whilst Tina from H4 was making a big song and dance about her release later in the afternoon Franky had slipped quietly back into her cell in H2.

It was pathetic to sit around sulking and of course she was glad the other inmate was getting out and would be reunited with her little brats. However it was hard to shake the feeling that she could be sat in some café with Bridget somewhere right now…or even better wrapped around the blonde in bed. Instead she was sat alone on her skinny uncomfortable prison bunk reading Faulkner’s ‘the Sound and the Fury’ for about the fourth time since she’d been incarcerated.

Part of the reason for her melancholy was the blonde psychologist’s revelation the day before that she had come to pick Franky up on her parole date. It had really driven home to her what exactly she was missing out on right now and god hadn’t she gotten a taste of it when they had kissed. All that longing and tension between them had exploded into the most earth shattering incredible kiss Franky had ever experienced. It had left Franky wanting nothing else than to lay Bridget over the office desk and ravish her until she came again and again in her mouth. Unfortunately such an act was off the agenda but it was a hell of a turn on to know that Bridget desired her that strongly too.

It was to be another three or four weeks until she could get that close and personal with the blonde again and she had no idea how she was going to cope for that length of time. It had literally only been twenty four hours since they had kissed and she was going stir crazy. At this rate she would be spending the next month in a constant state of fucking arousal.

There was hard rat-a-tat-tat on Franky’s cell door. The sound caught her by surprise especially as she recognised it instantly as Boomer, who was meant to be off stuffing her face with fizzy drinks and sweets at Tina’s pissing off party. No other inmate could make a door shake like that with a simple knock.

The door opened and the tall inmate bumbled inside with a big grin on her face. Franky put her book down beside her and regarded her friend. Boomer had her left hand behind her back like she was concealing something.

“Booms” Franky greeted.

She’d not really integrated too much with the other women since being released from the slot. Sure they had all been living in H2 together and she had sat out in the communal area with them, but she had spent most of that time just listening and watching them rather than actively taking part in any joviality. Franky couldn’t recall spending any one on one time with anyone other than Liz and even then it had been fleeting and on few occasions.

“I thought that if you wouldn’t come to the party then the party should come to you” Boomer announced. “Oh and I cut out some pictures from my magazines I thought you’d like on your wall.”

The larger woman stepped further into the room and brought her concealed arm from behind her back. In her hand was a bag of Allen’s party mix sweets and some scraps of paper. Franky sat up a bit straighter and reached for the offered items. The pictures were of a couple of famous people Boomer knew that Franky had the hots for and one of two women kissing. The gesture was sweet and one she really appreciated. When she glanced up at her friend Franky felt a little guilty that she hadn’t spent more time with her since being released because the larger woman looked nervous and awkward; like she wasn’t sure if Franky would appreciate the gift.

“Thanks Booms” she thanked her friend, pulling her legs up to her chest to make space for the other woman to sit down with her.

Boomer took the hint and sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress. Franky opened the packet of sweets and placed it between them so they could share. She’d never had much of a sweet tooth but she had skipped breakfast this morning and was starting to feel pretty fucking hungry. Boomer seemed to relax as they started to eat the sugary treats together and shuffled back on the bed so her back was against the wall.

“It’s shit you are still here” the larger inmate suddenly declared. “I mean…I was gonna miss you but I was glad for ya you know.”

“It’s just hard to watch other people to go knowing…” Franky didn’t bother to complete the sentence. It was obvious. Boomer might not be the brightest person around but she wasn’t thick either.

It was amazing how forgiving Boomer had been. Up until just before Franky had been due to make parole they had not been on speaking terms. It was her fault, just like the extra seven years Boomer had received for trafficking drugs had been her fault. She’d spent what she had thought to be her final month at Wentworth trying to make up for it by finding a loophole to remove some of that time from the other woman’s sentence. Now here Boomer was sat with her in an attempt to lift her spirits when the larger woman could be off having fun with the other inmates.

“You know you can’t just hide in here all the time Franks?” Boomer stated bluntly.

If it had been Liz or Doreen they would have tried to tackle the topic more delicately but Boomer had never had much tact. It was a quality Franky had always liked about her; she was straight talking. If you pissed her off she got angry, if you did something nice for her she smiled. There was no pretence and no falseness to her at all. It was her greatest quality but also the reason why Franky was yet to tell her about her new early release date. She was worried the larger woman would let it slip to one of the other girls from H2 and then no doubt they would let it slip to somebody else. Franky knew that the women were already riled because of the power vacuum. She’d been the target once already because they had thought she would try to fill the vacuum; she was worried that if they knew the Governor had pulled strings to get her released then she’d be targeted again. This time because they would accuse her of being Miss Bennett’s pet or a fucking lagger.

“I’m trying to keep out of trouble” Franky explained, pointing at her healing head wound to add emphasis as she spoke. It was an honest enough answer to prevent Boomer digging any deeper.

“Never thought I’d say this but I can’t wait for Red to get out the fucking slots” Franky admitted sheepishly.

Maxine had been right when she said that people now saw Franky and Bea Smith as allies. If Bea was returned to the main facility quickly then she would remain unchallenged, especially with that cuckoo Kaz Proctor currently in the slots. It wouldn’t matter if the other women found out about Franky’s upcoming release then because they wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her for fear of reprisals. The longer Red was stuck in the slots for the less likely that smooth transition back was to happen. Then it would be a full on shit storm. Ferguson, the freak, really did have a lot to fucking answer for.

“You’re getting far too old and serious for me” Boomer spoke up again, cutting into her thoughts. “You used to be the friend I could go beat shit with.”

The larger woman’s tone was jovial and she had a silly smirk across her face but Franky knew there was a lot of truth to her friend’s words. Not all that long ago she would have been leaping head first into the vacuum caused by Bea’s absence and claiming the prison back for herself. Or at least she’d be enjoying the opportunity to wind every one up and cause a bit of trouble. The experience of being top dog had actually been pretty bloody horrible. It wasn’t a role she’d have relished having again even before Bridget’s maturing and calming influence.

“Fuck off” Franky muttered good naturedly in response, throwing one of the gummy bears at the same time. It hit Booms directly on the temple before bouncing off onto the bed. The larger woman looked genuinely horrified and began searching for the offending sweet.

“Hey I had to give Tina the last of my batch of hooch for those don’t fucking waste them!”

It was the first time Franky had really laughed since the fire.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

It was Friday afternoon, the last of Bridget’s working days before the weekend. She had a huge gap in proceedings today because it had been set aside for her new drop in period which was to start next week. She had updated some of her files and created some self-assessment exercise sheets for her group sessions the following week. That had taken all of an hour. She had spent the next half an hour sat staring at the file of Franky Doyle. The inmate’s photo wasn’t the most flattering of pictures; in fact the brunette looked really pissed off which made the lines on her face harder and less inviting. Even still it filled a tiny piece of the hole in the psychologist’s heart just to be able to look at her. Or at least it was effective for half an hour and then the blonde just became awfully restless.

She hadn’t seen Franky since the day before when they had kissed in this very office. That hadn’t been a conscious choice. Bridget just hadn’t had a legitimate reason to see her and hadn’t had the good fortune to run into her by accident. God she wanted to see her though…wanted to look at the real 3D animated woman and not just a bad mug shot…wanted to hear her voice…wanted to make her smile. She wanted to do many other things too, none of which were acceptable either between them in Bridget’s role in the prison or as therapist and patient. She had known that giving in to any form of intimacy between them would open up the floodgates of her own heart and make every second apart ten times harder to bare. Now she knew the feel of Franky’s hand in her own, the softness of her skin and the taste of her lips it only intensified her longing and her fantasies.

Finally she couldn’t bare it any longer and she decided to subtly go on the hunt for the younger woman. If she had to wait another two whole days to see her again then she was sure she’d actually crack up. At least if she stumbled upon the inmate ‘by chance’ there was no reason for her not to stop and talk to her.

Franky had been spending loads of time on her own in her cell in H2; Bridget had overheard that from the screws. If that is where Franky was lingering this afternoon then Bridget’s hunt was a doomed one because there was no reason for her to go right into the H2 block. She could however pass by the block in the off chance Franky was sat out in the communal area. She doubted Franky would be frequenting the library much after the beating last time or at least certainly on a Friday afternoon when it was bound to be disserted. The only other possibility was the exercise yard. It was a bright sunny day so most of the women would be out their catching a few rays. If Franky had any sense she’d stay with the crowd as she was in far more danger when isolated.

The window of Bridget’s office over looked part of the yard. It was the larger part of the L shaped area with the greater number of benches and basketball court. The couple of times she had passed by Franky when she had been in the yard in the last week, back when she had been actively ignoring her like a bitch, the inmate had been in the quieter part of the L around the corner or working out in the area just out of view from the psychologist’s office. However Bridget lifted one of the blinds slightly and peered out on the off chance that the brunette inmate may be in view. Amazingly Bridget was in luck. Franky Doyle was sat at one of the benches alone and reading whilst some of her friends took part in a basketball match. The brunette was wearing a white singlet, her lime green bra slightly on show and skin glistening in the heat. The view even from a distance was mouth-watering.

Bridget was out the office in a flash.

 

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**Franky’s POV**

 

Franky turned over to the next page of her book whilst simultaneously ducking the basketball when a stray shot came her way. It was probably deliberate as it was one of Lucy’s crew and not Boomers team that had been the culprit but Franky couldn’t give less of a fuck if she tried.

It had taken some serious persuasion (and guilt) from Boomer to encourage her to come outside with them. In the end Franky had agreed not only to please her friends but also because it seemed advisable not to be the only person left in the whole of the H block. No one there to hear you scream and all that jazz. She hadn’t given in to the extent that Boomer had wanted though because the larger woman had designs on Franky playing the game with them. She could see why…Boomer’s team consisted of her, Sophie, an unfit Doreen (who was trying to get back into some sort of shape after giving birth) and Maxine. Boomer and Maxine were both pretty useful because if nothing else they were strong but poor Sophie looked terrified any time one of the opposition came near her and Doreen was having to pace herself.

Liz was ambling around the yard a safe distance away from the game pushing little Josh in his stroller. If Sophie could get her life together one day then her mum would definitely be a great gran. Liz was a natural with baby Josh, unlike Franky, who tended to make him cry just by looking at him. Apparently she fared no better with baby men than she did the adult versions, either way they seemed to find her threatening on some deep psychological level. She’d always just presumed it was because she was hot and they were afraid she was going to infect their women with her lesbian germs. She hoped that wasn’t the case with little Josh though or he was starting some Lothario ways seriously early.

Another ball whipped just past her head. Two in less than a minute was a sure sign it as being done on purpose and despite her intentions of staying out of trouble it was annoying enough to draw a reaction.

“Learn to fucking throw you disease infected skanks!” she hollered in the direction of the opposing team. It gained her several raised fingers and a thunderous laugh from Boomer who appeared thrilled to see a bit of the old Franky Doyle spirit returning.

The ball was thrown back into play by another inmate, or so Franky had presumed until the person spoke up.

“Maybe you should go show them how” said the unmistakable low voice of Bridget Westfall.

 Franky glanced up again from her book immediately. The blonde forensic psychologist was stood on the other side of the picnic bench facing her wearing grey skinny jeans and a cream ruffled silk sleeveless top. The inmate had seen Bridget wear it before but only half hidden under a black jacket. Without the jacket it was actually quite revealing as it clung to the older woman in all the right places and gave a tantalising view of the swell of her breasts. The view was enough to make the inmates mind turn to jelly and for a long moment she just gawped at the other woman in sheer admiration.

“Hey” Franky finally managed to stutter, dragging her eyes up from the other woman’s attire and to her face. Bridget was grinning like a fool and ducked her head coyly when Franky made eye contact with her. It was blatant flirtation and Franky took a weary glance around the yard to see if any of the other inmates or the many screws who were policing them today were paying any attention to them.

“Hey” Bridget replied brightly. Her smile only intensified and Franky found herself grinning back despite their surroundings. After what had happened in the office the day before she found that her feelings for the blonde had only intensified. Just the sight of her stood bathed in sunlight was enough to make the inmates pulse race.

Franky was surprised to see Bridget out in the yard but she was caught even more off guard when the older woman climbed elegantly into the picnic bench and sat down opposite her. Despite their location the psychologist seemed relaxed as she turned her head to the side to watch the game. Franky placed her book down against the bench and took the opportunity to observe the other woman again.

Bridget’s hair was up in a high pony tail, a style she seemed to favour and the blonder streaks were highlighted by the beams of bright sunlight. That light was causing the older woman to squint as she watched Doreen try to dribble around one of the opposing players but the expression was endearing especially when coupled with her beaming smile. There was something about Bridget both in looks and character that drew Franky helplessly in. The psychologist was at least ten years older than her and Franky had never been into older women before. She had always found them a bit boring. Yet Bridget, despite how calm and collected she was, was anything but boring. She was fiercely intelligent but not arrogant with it and there was a confidence and a fire to her that made her irresistible. You just had to watch her swagger down the corridor to see Bridget Westfall had character. If you watched her swagger down the corridor you couldn’t help but notice her fine fucking figure either.

 “I used to play with a few friends every Sunday but then life took over” the blonde said as she continued to watch the inmates play.

It took Franky a moment to process what Bridget had actually said because she had been too busy gazing at her. When she did realise they were talking about basketball she was bombarded by the mental image of Bridget Westfall exerting herself…sweat running down glistening skin. She had to physically shake the mental image away before replying.

 “You got skills?” Franky asked with her trademark flirtatious smirk. She wondered if Bridget would react to the double entendre or just brush it aside.

Bridget turned her head to face the inmate and smirked, her expressive blue eyes twinkling with what looked a lot like mischief.

“Many” the blonde replied silkily, her meaning completely clear.

Bridget looked down coyly again but this time her gaze stayed down. It allowed Franky yet another opportunity to run her eyes over the blonde. With her head tilted and at an angle the psychologists glorious prominent jaw line was on show. The inmate had allowed herself a fleeting moment to caress that perfectly sculptured jaw the day before but she longed to press her lips against it and map it out with her tongue.

Bridget angled her head a bit more, leaning her chin on her elbows which were now propped up on the picnic bench. The inmate followed her eye line down to the table. The older woman was looking at the book Franky had been reading but the glare of the bright afternoon sun was obviously making it difficult.

“Faulkner?” the psychologist asked as she squinted to see the book cover through the reflected sunlight.

It didn’t surprise Franky that the blonde was well read enough to recognise a classic by just the design on the book cover. She had that aura of someone who was well read. The inmate had always pictured the older woman returning home after work, cooking a wholesome meal and then settling down to a good book with a glass of wine. Probably on an expensive leather sofa in a living room finely decorated with tasteful but colourful modern art.

“Yeah” Franky responded slowly. “I’ve read it shit loads already but I have ran out of decent books to read in the library.”

“The collection of books isn’t exactly vast” Bridget admitted, “and you don’t seem like the type who’d want to read Paris Hilton’s autobiography.”

Franky had resorted to reading some odd autobiographies in her time at Wentworth but had never felt the need to stoop so low. She had resorted to such titles as ‘Stubborn Buggers’ and ‘Amazing Aussie Bastards’ though. That’s when Franky had decided that reading things for a second time would be more preferable.

“No” the inmate agreed, “even the law books are years out of date.”

When Erica had been there she had pushed for some new books to help the women with their HSC’s. She had also supplied some new editions of the books on Franky’s first reading list which at that point where either just general law texts or criminal law texts. Now Franky was past that stage she was stuck with outdated and sometimes useless editions of the books she needed. Her current tutor had held no sway with the hierarchy…not that he’d had much chance when that hierarchy had been Governor Ferguson.

“It’s a fucking pain” the brunette continued; glad to have someone to vent at who would actually listen to her.  “My notes were talking about this case that had set a really important precedent but when I tried to read about it in the book it referenced I realised the edition we have was from two years before the case even took place. We don’t get to play on the internet either so I have no fucking idea of its relevance or content.”

Bridget was directing that soulful look she seemed to have perfected in Franky’s direction. It was the look that said ‘I know it’s shit but just try to do the best you can’. She’s seen it in some of their sessions especially when she had admitted to being bored senseless by prison life.

It looked like Bridget was about to comment but they were both distracted by the sound of the metal sliding gates from one end of the exercise yard. Bridget’s gaze shot up in the direction of the sound and Franky turned her head. It was the tell-tale sound of the Governor, or at least someone who had come from the Governor’s office, entering the yard area. When Ferguson had been there it had been an ominous sound but Miss Bennett cut a much less imposing figure as she strolled down the line of the metal fencing.

The acting Governor nodded her acknowledgement at a guard or two before spotting the two women sat together. Franky could see that the psychologist was nervous out of the corner of her eye despite Bridget’s attempts at looking calm and collected. It was the fingers pressed down against the surface of the picnic bench that gave her away. It seemed she had no cause for concern though as Miss Bennett merely nodded in her direction in the same manner she had the other staff and walked on. Bridget let out a deep breath in relief and turned back towards the inmate.

“Tensions are really high at the moment” Franky commented. “You know top brass are worried when even the Governor is out patrolling the fence line.”

Bridget looked around the exercise yard for the first time since she had taken a seat with the inmate. Franky could see the cogs in the psychologists head turning as she glanced from group to group of the women. There was very little intermingling going on and people were broken off into separate little sections of the yard. Everyone had a watchful eye on everyone else. The brunette watched as the older woman’s face laced with concern before dropping back to a more neutral expression when she looked back to Franky.

“The women were bound to try and test the boundaries with Ferguson gone” Bridget remarked.

The basketball from the forgotten game whisked behind Franky’s head causing both of them to jump slightly. This time it was an accident and Sophie shouted across her apologies. It drew a quiet, deep throaty laugh from Bridget; a sound Franky found sexy. Unfortunately that laugh marked a shift in the blonde’s demeanour and she sat up a little straighter.

“I better go” the psychologist remarked with a sad sigh. “I can only push my luck for so long.”

The inmate knew the older woman couldn’t just stay with her indefinitely but it still made her mood fall significantly. It would be two whole days before the blonde would be back in work. It hit the inmate again that if Ferguson hadn’t pissed on her parole then she could be spending the weekend with her and not sat on edge in this concrete prison.

“I’ll see you on Monday?” Franky hinted as Bridget climbed to her feet.

The inmate knew she didn’t have an appointment booked for Monday, nor was there one of Miss Westfall’s drop in sessions that had been advertised on the notice boards. She was hopeful that like today Bridget would find a way of seeing her.

The blonde psychologist’s lips turned up into a slight smile and her eyes sparkled again, silently agreeing that yes somehow she would see her on Monday. Then suddenly Bridget seemed to become very serious again and she looked around the exercise yard one more time.

“Stay safe” the blonde said softly before turning and walking away.

Franky kept her eyes trained on Bridget’s figure until the older woman was no longer in view, soaking up the imagery of the blonde’s hips swaying invitingly as she moved and burning it to memory. When she was alone in her bunk tonight she would try to replay that image of Bridget sat across from her with that coy little flirtatious smile. Anything but the thought of the blonde lying alone in a large bed with a plush mattress and soft sheets without Franky there to hold her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 9**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

It was mid Monday morning and Franky found herself alone in H2 again. Most of the others were on work duty except Doreen who was out walking baby Josh somewhere. Franky hadn’t been rostered in for anything until Wednesday afternoon when she would be on cleaning duty. Mopping corridors wasn’t Franky’s favourite past time but there were worse things she could be doing and it was only three afternoons a week. Obviously Miss Bennett hadn’t seen much point in placing her in a full time role because she would be leaving again soon. The inmate hoped the other women wouldn’t realise the significance too as she was still keen to keep it hush hush.

The weekend had felt long and boring despite it being no different than any other weekend at Wentworth….or any day at Wentworth for that matter. Except weekdays meant Bridget and Franky, like the lovesick puppy she had rapidly become, missed the older woman. The only positive part of the weekend had been the fact she had been assigned a job in the kitchen on the Sunday. Bo, who had taken over the running of the kitchens when she was meant to be paroled, had crippling stomach cramps, so Franky had been drafted in to replace her. It had at least meant that she was distracted for a huge chunk of the day on Sunday and hadn’t spent it moping around like she had the rest of the week.

This morning she wasn’t moping, or at least not yet. She was currently sat out at the table in H2, law textbooks and notes scattered in front of her. For the last week she had struggled to study, every time she had tried she had been distracted by angst ridden thoughts of Bridget Westfall. Now those issues seemed to have been smoothed out and sorted the inmate was much more relaxed and found it easier to focus in patches on her studies. She had already managed to read through and make notes on a full chapter this morning.

Franky got up from the table and headed over to the small kitchen area to make herself a coffee. Caffeine was going to be essential if she was going to refocus and take on a second chapter of her work. She’d been drinking a lot of coffee in the past week even for her. Too much coffee and not enough food according to Liz. Franky had tried to eat a bit more on the blonde inmates request but her appetite was still low.

The brunette had just finished pouring the boiled water into her cup when she heard Doreen re-entering H2 from her left. It was obviously Dor because of the distinctive sound of baby Josh’s stroller. Franky added a splash of milk to her coffee before turning around, cup in hand, to greet the other inmate.

“I’ve just been talking to Mr Jackson” Doreen began before Franky had even managed to say hello. “Maxine has just had to stop some ex smack head trying to beat Liz up in laundry.”

The other inmate rolled the stroller towards her so she was on the far side of the table. Franky was taken by surprise and remained routed to the spot by the kitchen counter. Doreen didn’t look terribly upset; she was more wound up than anything so Franky was hopeful that Maxine had stepped in before any blows had been landed.

“Is Liz okay?” she inquired just to be 100% sure.

“Yeah… this time” Doreen replied, her tone sharp.

Franky could tell by the tense body language and the high and mighty look on the other woman’s face that she was about to be moaned at. Nobody had mentioned anything about her slipping into Queen Bea’s role to keep the bed warm for her since Maxine had spoken to her on the day she was attacked. The brunette was hyper aware that Doreen had dropped several hints over the last couple of days about Bea and the way the women were acting whilst she was slotted.

The tattooed inmate finally found her feet and made her way back to the table, placing her cup down on its surface before taking her seat. Ominously Doreen didn’t make a move to sit down, she merely lent her hands on the chair across from Franky.

“What if next time it’s me and Josh?” the other inmate demanded. “If Bea doesn’t get released soon there will be chaos. The women are brewing for a riot.”

Franky slumped down in the seat and sighed. She could do without being guilt tripped and it was a fucking dirty tactic from Doreen. She couldn’t deny that the women were on edge, she still had the evidence of their unrest painted in purple bruises across her ribs, abdomen and upper legs. A riot was possibly off the cards now that the most vocal ring leaders currently resided in the slot too. Lucy’s little group still had a thing or two to say but with Lucy currently wheelchair bound Franky was sure they were all bark and little bite.

“I know a lot of the women in here are shits Dor but they’re not about to attack a fucking baby” Franky pointed out. As the words left her mouth she outwardly cringed, remembering quite how the fire a couple of weeks before had come about.

“Except Warner obviously but that crazy bitch bit the dust” she added.

If Franky had expected her words to placate the other woman then she was sadly mistaken. In fact Doreen just became more irate and slammed her hand down on the table in frustration.

“You are so fucking selfish!” the other woman spat out.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that Franky’s mood had improved drastically again since lip locking Bridget at the end of the previous week she’d have probably chewed the other inmate out for snapping at her. How the fuck could Doreen call her selfish for not wanting to get involved in any of the prison bullshit? Hadn’t Doreen been greatly opposed to her as top dog previously? The other inmate had been quick to condemn Franky for her actions as top dog yet support Queen Bea even though the red haired women could be equally as violent…often more so. In fact wasn’t it selfish that Doreen expected her to just take on everyone’s problem for them because they were too weak to handle themselves?

“Doreen…” the tattooed inmate sighed, remaining calm despite her frustrations.

The other inmate seemed caught off guard by her lack of reaction but it didn’t stop her carrying on with her accusations.

“Seriously Franky I get the fact you don’t want to be top dog again because you totally lost yourself but all we need you to do is just strut around and hold the fort for Bea. Why do you have to be so fucking proud and refuse to be seen as someone’s number two when you know it could protect your friends?”

These things were all true to an extent. Even if she was stuck in Wentworth for the long haul she’d have been reluctant to play the role as Bea Smith’s sidekick but she’d have probably conceded. After all it was better to be the right hand man of the devil then be in his way. The fact was though that her own stubborn independence was not the issue now. It wasn’t something she had wanted to disclose to anyone but she doubted she’d shake Doreen of her back unless she did.

The brunette slumped down into the seat a little bit further and rubbed her palms across her face. The action helped soothe the ire she was feeling.

“Dor if I was going to be stuck in here until the end of my sentence then yeah maybe” Franky conceded, “but I can’t afford to get into shit and fuck up my new release date.”

Doreen’s facial expression shifted from anger, to confusion, then realisation, followed by surprise. The last expression, the one that stuck, was a toothy smile.        

“You have a new release date?!” the other inmate exclaimed. “Franky you never said or I’d have never…”

The tattooed inmate was glad of the sudden shift but part of her was still frustrated that it should make any difference. As far as she was concerned Doreen, Maxine or anyone else for that matter had no right whatsoever to demand something from her that they were unwilling to do themselves. That being said she believed that had Doreen known about the new release date she wouldn’t have asked it from her.

“I know” Franky sighed, pushing her frustrations aside. “I don’t want the women finding out yet or I’ll run the risk of leaving this shithole in a box.”

The inmate sat up again as she spoke and rested her hands on the table in front of her. She didn’t want to have to ask her friend to stay quiet in case it offended her that she was asking something so obvious. Their broken relationship had only be partially repaired and only for a short period of time, she didn’t want to plunge them in to disrepute again. It seemed that the other woman understood her meaning just from her previous words and her imploring eyes.

 “I won’t say a word” Doreen promised.

Franky nodded her head in a curt thank you. She wasn’t really sure what to say or do now; the conversation seemed to have died. There hadn’t really been an occasion in the past week when the two of them had been alone together. The fact that they were now left in awkward silence highlighted how strained their friendship still was. The few times Franky had interacted with them all in a group it hadn’t been noticeable.

“Josh has a check-up in medical” Doreen excused herself. “I better go.”

Franky watched as the other inmate turned and began to wheel the stroller back out of H2. She reached for her steaming cup of coffee and cradled it in her hands, slumping back into the seat again.

 

Lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

**Bridget’s POV**

 

Bridget noticed one or two odd looks from the prison guards as she entered H block balancing a cardboard box in her arms. Although it hadn’t felt heavy at first it was starting to make her arms ache now that she had carried it all the way from her car to the Governor’s Office and then to H block. The corridor down to H2 was pretty much deserted apart from Miss Miles who was patrolling it. Most of the women would be on work duty and those who were not would be outside enjoying yet another blissfully sunny day.

Just as the psychologist was reaching the entrance to H2 Doreen can striding out pushing baby Josh’s stroller in front of her. The inmate smiled but didn’t stop which was unusual because Doreen was always very friendly. Bridget didn’t give it a second thought though because as she turned into the cell block there was the instant distraction of Franky Doyle. It made Bridget slow to a halt in the entrance.

The young inmate was sat at the table facing the psychologist’s direction but the brunette hadn’t seen her yet. Franky was focussed on the mug of steaming liquid she had in her hands and looked a little sad and pensive. Bridget wondered if the two inmates had rowed or something given Franky’s sombre mood and the speed Doreen had shot past her.

After observing the younger woman for a few seconds Bridget took a careful step forward into the block, mindful not to startle the brunette. As she suspected the slightest bit of movement made Franky’s head shoot up but as soon as the inmate realised it was her the sad expression fell away and was replaced by a megawatt grin.

“Hey!” the inmate greeted cheerfully. As Bridget made her way over to the table Franky made no attempt to hide the fact she was blatantly checking the psychologist out. With no one currently around to see it Bridget enjoyed the attention and put an extra swing in her hips as she approached.

“Well hey there” the older woman flirted as she placed the box down on the edge of the table and leant the palms of her hands on it.

Franky glanced over Bridget’s shoulder briefly but seemed satisfied they were alone. This being the case the younger woman placed her cup down on the table to the side of her and placed her own elbows on the table, leaning forward so her chin was resting on her hands. The inmate’s movement brought them closer together and Bridget found herself lost in Franky’s Cerulean eyes.

“Did you have a good weekend?” Franky asked.

The question caught the forensic psychologist by surprise. She didn’t think the inmate would want to hear or think about life outside Wentworth especially since having her original parole revoked. However, Franky was still smiling sweetly and looked genuinely interested in whatever the answer was going to be. The blonde hoped her answer didn’t sound too boring to the younger woman.

“It was okay thanks” Bridget responded brightly. “I made the most of the sun and did a bit of gardening; then I went on a shopping spree.”

Franky’s eyes ran appreciatively down the length of Bridget’s body again and the older woman wondered what exactly the inmate was picturing in her mind’s eye. If Franky was imagining something glamorous then she was very much mistaken as the blonde had spent the whole of Saturday afternoon covered in soil and sweat. Although Bridget mused that knowing Franky she’d probably quite like the idea of rolling around in the dirt with her.

The inmate’s eyes began to wander back up the psychologists body, stopping at the package balanced on the table next to where Bridget stood.

“What’s in the box?” the tattooed brunette inquired.

“This would be the result of said shopping spree” Bridget admitted, patting the cardboard box lightly.

She was secretly pleased that her presence had distracted Franky from the sizable package she had placed in front of the younger woman. It was a relief to see that the brunette had put their terrible week behind them. Bridget wasn’t sure she deserved it but that didn’t make her any less relieved.

“You bought some lingerie to model for me?” Franky quipped. The younger woman’s tongue pressed against her upper teeth, a common gesture when Franky was flirting and one Bridget found incredibly endearing and a little arousing.

“The Governor refused my request for that one I’m afraid but she did let me bring you these” Bridget responded smoothly.

She had dreaded asking Vera if she could give Franky the contents of the box. The acting Governor had looked weary but upon inspections of the items inside seemed to brighten considerably. Vera’s only stipulation was that she was to give then to Franky subtly when no one was around and had sent Bridget in the direction of H2 straight away whilst it was quiet.

Franky sat up tall in the seat with a look of curiosity across her features as Bridget opened the box and reached inside. She pulled out the more practical parts of the gift first; three large law text books.

“Shit Gidget! Are those…?” the inmate gasped.

Bridget placed them one at a time in front of Franky who looked down at them in awe. They were the latest editions of the books the brunette was currently meant to be reading as part of her studies.

 “I found your course online and checked out your reading list” Bridget admitted. “I hope that’s okay?”

The older woman was worried it was a step too far at the moment. She didn’t want it to seem like she was buying Franky’s favour after being an idiot to the younger woman last week.  Nor did she want to seem obsessive. She hoped the inmate would see the gift for what it was; a token of affection from someone who cared about her deeply but had no other way of currently expressing it.

“Bridget no one’s ever…” Franky choked out, lost for words briefly before finally finishing her train of thought. “It’s more than okay Gidget.”

The blonde couldn’t help the beaming smile that appeared on her own face at the sound of the younger woman’s nickname for her making an appearance. It gave her a fluttering feeling in her chest, a feeling that was amplified when Franky ran her hand down the spines of one of the new books. Bridget remembered how Franky’s caress had felt only days before in her office. How a simple movement of the inmates hand had left a trail of fire across Bridget’s skin despite the layers of clothing between them. Was it possible to be jealous of a book?

“I thought you might like these too” Bridget continued, pulling herself from distracting thoughts of kissing the inmate and back to the present. She still had four more books to give the younger woman but these ones where for entertainment not work.

“They’re off the best sellers list. So hopefully they’ll keep you amused for a little while” the psychologist stated as she placed them down on the table. They were four very different fictional novels which all had excellent reviews. Bridget hadn’t read any of them yet but they all looked pretty interesting. Perhaps she’d borrow them off Franky after the inmate was finally released.

The tattooed brunette picked up one of the novels, the only romance Bridget had picked out for her, and winked at the psychologist. The blonde could feel heat rising up her neck and onto her cheeks and she glanced down at the floor. The book didn’t seem too soppy and sounded quite plot driven but she wasn’t surprised that Franky had hawked the fact it was a romance (and a lesbian romance at that) from its cover.

She was expecting the inmate to make some sort of lurid or flirtatious comment especially as Franky was smirking from ear to ear. The brunette glanced over Bridget’s shoulder like she was checking to make sure no one could overhear them but then her expression changed very suddenly to confusion.

“Where is your escort?” the inmate asked.

“Escort?” Bridget replied. She was confused as to why Franky would think she had an escort. She had never walked around Wentworth with a guard tailing her apart from the very first couple of days she had worked there originally.

The younger woman leant back in her seat and regarded Bridget with a concerned stare. It was unusual for Franky to get so serious in her presence, usually even when she was solemn the inmate was still flirty or trying to cover it with dark humour.

“The women are seriously fucking rattled. You shouldn’t walk around without a guard especially not in the blocks” the inmate explained.

The blonde had never felt under threat whilst working at the facility, not from the inmates anyway. She was sure Joan Ferguson would have happily lined her up next to Jess Warner and strangled her to death too if given half an opportunity.

“I’m not a screw” Bridget pointed out casually, “I’ve always enjoyed a good relationship with the women.”

Usually as she walked down the corridors the inmates said hello to her or at least nodded their head in acknowledgement. Even when she had briefly worked in a men’s facility she had more often than not moved around without a guard. Most inmates understood she was there for their benefit and not for the state’s.

“I know but it’s a power vacuum Gidget” Franky said, sighing between sentences. “Normal rules and behaviours just don’t apply. Everyone becomes fair game.”

The psychologist in Bridget instantly honed in on a possible cause for the inmates concern. The last time there was a real major uprising in the prison Meg Jackson, the then Governor, had died. Bridget now knew that Franky had somehow accidently killed her in the melee and she wondered if that was playing on the brunette’s mind. It wasn’t something they could talk about in H block so the older woman shelved the thought until their next session.

“I’ll be fine” Bridget assured the younger woman, “but I like the fact you worry about me.”

As Bridget spoke she leant forward across the table, bringing herself closer to Franky and giving the younger woman a purposeful tantalising view of her cleavage. It was certainly an effective way of shutting down the subject as the inmates eyes darted from Bridget’s own eyes to the extra skin that had been exposed to her. Franky’s tongue curled and pressed against her front teeth.

The psychologist knew she had lingered too long in H block. Not because she was worried about her own safety like the inmate seemed to be but because she didn’t want to give the guards anything to talk about. Vera’s good will could only and would only go so far if the rumours really kicked off again.

“See you tomorrow morning” Bridget said as she straightened up again.  

“I’m counting down the hours” the inmate fired back instantly.

The blonde loved the flirtation and eked it out just a tiny bit longer by turning slowly, looking over her shoulder, before walking away with a swing in her hips. She glanced back again over her shoulder as she reached the entrance of H2 to find the younger woman’s eyes still hungrily trained upon her. A quick glance down the corridor assured Bridget that no one was currently looking in her direction so she threw Franky a cheeky wink before turning right and out of sight of the inmate.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay but life got in the way. I had to go back and watch season 3 to get me in the Fridget mind set again. Anyway I am back updating, can't promise that it will be a chapter a week but you wont have to wait this long again!

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 10**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Franky closed her eyes and let the warm water wash over her. The water pressure of the shower’s in Wentworth was actually quite good, it was a pity the only privacy came from a thin shower curtain. It was one of the reasons Franky always tried to shower early before the other women all rushed in just before breakfast or late just before lock down when she had work duty. However now she currently had no work duty preventing her from showering in the middle of the day she had the luxury of going to the shower block whenever she wanted. During work duty hours the blocks were virtually empty and it was the second day on a row she had them all to herself.

It was early afternoon and Franky had spent the morning studying, apart from one short interlude when the lovely Bridget Westfall had distracted her bearing gifts. The brunette had received gifts in the past, some of which had been quite touching. Having the blonde psychologist pay attention to her like that though had been more than touching. It had felt significant. Every moment between them now felt like building blocks towards something huge and important.

As Franky stood under the stream of the shower enjoying the heat and even the tingle of it hitting fading purple bruises, she was vaguely aware of the shower block door opening and closing again. It was still quiet in the block though bar the sound of running water in her stall so there seemed little for her to be alarmed about. It wasn’t unusual for one or two people to emerge for showers in the day if they had no work duty either.

Unfortunately the inmate’s moment of peace was shattered when her shower curtain was unceremoniously ripped open, the ferocity pulling most of the thin plastic of the rail. Franky swung around in the shower to see who the fuck had dared interrupt her. It was Lucy’s crew of miscreants, led by the blonde Stella, who had been playing basketball against Boomer just a couple of days before. It didn’t bode well for the brunette as they had a handful of scores to settle with her and with Bea. As everyone seemed to think her and Red where a team now that meant she was going to be the focus of that bit of rage too.

“Enjoying the eyeful you fucking skanks?” the brunette spat.

She was presuming she was about to take yet another beating but she was mildly concerned this group may have something a bit more intrusive in mind. It would be less humiliating to be bloodied up than sexually assaulted by a bunch of diseased dykes. Weren’t they meant to be on work duty anyway?

“Oh I’m going to enjoy this bitch” Stella sneered, raising her fist to threaten Franky.

Normally Franky would fancy her chances against the three women in front of her because their only real strength was in the weight they packed behind their punches. When fit and healthy and not nursing some very bruised ribs she had a fair chance of using her greater manoeuvrability and speed to wriggle out of the situation. That option wasn’t really available so Franky pressed back against the wall of the shower, ignoring the flowing water, in the hope that if she could only leave her front open to attack she may be able to repel them.

Ironically her backward step did give the blonde in front of her something to pause about. It took Franky a couple of seconds to understand why but the nervous glance down to the dial of the shower next to Franky’s hip gave it away. One of them would have to reach through the water stream in the shower to grab at her and in doing so they would get soaking wet. It would be rather obvious they were the culprit of the beating if seen by any of the guards or even the cameras in that state.

When the ring leader did move, she made a launch for the dial rather than Franky, in an attempt to shut of the water. It made it easy for the brunette inmate to thrust her knee up and catch the larger woman in the stomach, forcing her back. For a second Franky thought she may actually be able to put the three women off enough to make them have second thoughts but then all three of them lurched into the shower booth with her and made a grab for her. There were only so many arms she could push away at once and one of them managed to grip her arm and yank her forward.

Franky was grappled out of the cubicle, her ribs protesting painfully at the movement and then felt on fire as she was shoved to the floor. Her naked body was slick with warm water so she skidded slightly over the surface giving her a little bit of distance between her and her attackers. She tried to scramble to her feet but was harshly pushed down again by the broadest woman of the group. Rather like in the library the week before she covered her face with her hands to try and protect it from what was coming but before a blow could be landed the door to the shower room burst open with such ferocity it made a terrible clatter when it smashed into the wall.

“What’s wrong?” the unmistakable voice of Maxine rang out, “Not in the mood for a fight anymore?”

Maxine’s arrival seemed to have caught Lucy’s crew by surprise so Franky took advantage of the situation and scrabbled to her feet again. When she was stood upright she realised that it was not only Maxine who had made a grand entrance but she was in fact flanked by Liz and Sophie. Liz and Sophie hardly cut the most ferocious of figures but the numbers had now swung in Franky’s favour and Stella and her two thick buddies knew it.

“We’re going” Stella muttered, raising her hands in defeat.

The three of them started to walk towards the open door. It looked like Franky’s friends were just going to let them pass without comment but as Stella walked past Maxine the tall brunette glanced down the corridor to make sure no one was around before grabbing her round the throat and glaring at her.

“Try it again and you’ll be joining your friend in the mobile seating” Maxine growled menacingly in the blondes face. She slapped the woman’s cheek twice for good measure, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to leave any evidence. The look of fear on Stella’s face made it clear the message had been received so Maxine let her go before shoving her out the door and into the corridor. The other two inmates scampered after their friend leaving Franky, Maxine, Liz and Sophie alone in the shower room.

“Shouldn’t you all be doing the fucking laundry?” Franky inquired, still on edge after the near miss.

She wanted to know how the hell six women had managed to just waltz out of their work placement to come scrap over her. She was warming to Miss Bennett for the help the acting governor had given her in organising a new release date but the goodwill would run out fast if slack management got Franky continuously beaten until that date.

“Guard went for a piss and they scarpered love” Liz explained. “Luckily Sophie had overheard their plans so we followed them.”

The guards were meant to radio in for someone to replace them if they left their post but Franky knew they were drastically understaffed. They were understaffed before Ferguson was arrested but with Vera off the floor now too as acting governor and another couple of guards off since the fire (Franky presumed they were skiving due to ‘stress’) they were running on the bare minimal. It didn’t fill Franky with much confidence but at least she had other inmates looking out for her. She gave Sophie a friendly smile to thank the young girl for her part in the rescue.

“Where are your clothes?” the aforementioned blonde girl suddenly spoke up.

“I was in the shower” Franky pointed out dryly but not unkindly. In truth she had forgotten she was naked until Sophie had spoken. Now she was aware she moved her hands to cover her most private parts.

“No Franky” Maxine said seriously, tilting her head towards the shower cubicle with the running water that the brunette had previously been occupying. “Where are your clothes?”

The younger inmate turned back in the direction of the cubicle and let out a growl. There were no clothes or a towel hanging up where they should be. One of the damn druggie skanks had obviously walked out with them and Franky had been too distracted to notice.

“Oh fuck!” the brunette swore. She grabbed the nearest thing she could find to cover herself, the shower curtain that was already half hanging off the rail, and ripped it fully down.

It was long enough and wide enough to wrap around her body and cover her from above her breasts to just above her knees. However when both she and the shower curtain were wet it became decidedly see through and when she looked down she could make out her tattoo’s and the darker bruises on her midriff through the thin plastic material. It was going to be a walk of shame back to H2 minus the fun that was meant to have occurred the night before.

Sensing her mood the other three kept quiet as Franky passed them and walked out into the corridor. She had only managed to walk about ten foot with the other three trailing behind her when someone else emerged into the corridor.

Miss Miles, probably the last guard Franky wanted to see when dressed in a shower curtain, stopped in her tracks and raised her eyebrows at the inmate.

“Everything okay here?” the guard asked, clearly trying to keep a straight face.

“It is now” Franky muttered as she came to halt in front of the blonde guard.

It was clear Miles wasn’t surprised that Liz, Sophie and Maxine where not in the laundry so had clearly been sent looking for them. However she currently seemed more interested and amused in the young brunette inmate’s attire.

“What are you wearing Doyle?” the blond screw asked. For someone who was usually pretty blank and emotionless Miles sure looked gleeful at Franky’s current predicament. It pissed the inmate off.

“It’s hobo fucking chic” Franky snapped irritably, “What of it?”

Linda Miles rolled her eyes at the remark and pointed down the corridor in the direction of the laundry.

“Whatever” she scoffed, “get back to your work placements now or I’ll write you up.”

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

It was six in the evening and time to go home but before Bridget had made it out of the office there had been a phone call from Vera’s secretory asking her to call by the Governor’s office on her way out. The last time she had been called to the office in this manner had been to discuss restarting her sessions with Franky Doyle. There wasn’t an obvious reason for her presence to be required this time so she was quite curious as she made her way down the corridor towards the office.

Bridget had spent the entire afternoon in various group sessions with the women from H5 and H6. They had been at times productive, at other times heated and at all times quite fascinating to observe. In theory group sessions enabled inmates to discuss shared experiences, put their own problems into perspective and increase a sense of community within a correctional facility. It could sometimes take a while for that companionship and community spirit to take effect as todays sessions highlighted. She hoped their slightly volatile nature hadn’t led Mr Jackson, who had been the escorting officer, to speak to the acting Governor about them.

As Bridget approached the office, the secretary, who was dressed to leave for the day opened the door to usher her straight in. There she found Vera casually sat behind the desk, a couple of buttons of her blouse undone, typing away at the computer. The acting Governor stopped the instant Bridget entered and shuffled her seat sideways so the computer monitor was no longer between them.

“Hey Bridget” she greeted cheerfully. “How did Doyle like her books?”

The blonde found it unlikely she had been called to Vera’s office purely to discuss Franky’s reading habits but she responded to the banter with equal cheer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as pleased to be given textbooks as a gift” she admitted. The acting Governor smiled in response and nodded her head.

“I must say she seems a bit brighter again now that your sessions have started” Vera replied, a slight smile playing across her lips as she spoke. Her tone held just a tiny hint of suggestion and although it seemed to hold amusement and not reprehension Bridget still felt it best to steer clear from the topic.

“She does but she’s concerned about growing tensions in the prison and I can’t say I blame her” the blonde changed the direction of the conversation. “It was quite apparent in my sessions today that the women are on edge. Franky thinks there will be trouble when the women realise Bea Smith is going to be released back into the blocks.”

Although Bridget doubted Vera would be massively interested in Franky’s opinion on the matter it was a way of subtly digging for information about Bea Smith. The Psychologist was aware that the sooner Bea got out the safer the brunette inmate would be whereas if it dragged on and on the women would become more and more restless and there was likely to be another violent altercation.

“I think she’s probably right” Vera agreed without taking the bait, “I just hope Doyle manages to keep herself out of it.”

Bridget felt an urge to defend the inmate and state that she would keep her head above water but she bit back any remark and turned her attention back to the woman sat across from her. Considering the amount of pressure she must be under Vera seemed remarkably chipper and relaxed. In fact Bridget had noticed ever since her return to work that the acting Governor seemed to be flourishing under the pressure.

“There was another incident today” Vera stated. “We are not sure of the specifics but some of the inmates snuck out of laundry to attack Doyle but were prevented from doing so by the other women from H2.”

Bridget felt her heart race at the other woman’s words despite the fact the attack had been prevented. Was she literally going to spend the entire month on a knife’s edge worrying about Franky’s safety? She was surprised she hadn’t already heard about the incident but then she had been busy all afternoon and therefore out of range of the guard’s gossip.

“Franky’s fine although according to Linda she lost her clothes in the incident and had to parade around in a shower curtain” Vera continued, failing to hide her own amusement at Franky’s predicament as a smirk appeared on her face mid-sentence.

“Oh she’d have loved that!” Bridget responded.

Bridget couldn’t help but smile too because she could picture quite how pissed of the young inmate would have been about the lack of dignity involved in having to don a cheap shower curtain. On the other hand Bridget knew Franky would have swaggered down the corridor in it determined not to let her embarrassment show. She was slightly sorry she’d missed the spectacle.

“Do you want to get out of here and get a drink?” Vera interjected. “Something with a high alcohol content?”

The blonde was caught totally off guard by the suggestion. She hadn’t pictured Vera as the ‘going out for drinks’ type but then most of her early opinions and observations of the woman had been made when she was totally downtrodden by Ferguson. This was Vera unchained and she was proving to be quite different to Bridget’s original surmising.

“I need to escape this mountain of paperwork I am being snowed in under!” Vera continued, gesturing to the many papers scattered in piles around her desk. “Fletch is doing me a favour taking on the deputy’s job temporarily but I’m still having to do a lot of that paperwork as well as the Governors. I also have tons of extra shit because of the fire and all the media coverage and repairs. I’m drowning here and I could do with a drink.”

Bridget didn’t think the other woman looked like she was drowning but it was a lot of paperwork and Vera had been working ridiculous hours. Besides, all Bridget did when she was at home was think about Franky so a distraction would do her the world of good too. A few drinks in a quiet bar somewhere could be a great tonic for both of them. As far as she knew Vera didn’t live all that far away from her so If they agreed on somewhere to meet in-between their respective homes she could taxi it home.

“Sure” Bridget agreed, “Sounds like fun.”

“Good” Vera bubbled, “I know just the place.”

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 11**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Franky was practically bouncing as she walked down the corridor to Bridget’s office on Tuesday morning for their first session of the week. The guard, some guy who had been drafted in as cover from another facility, was wandering somewhere behind her making no effort to keep up. He didn’t even bother walking her right up to the Forensic Psychologist’s door and just lingered halfway down the corridor waiting for her to go in. She rapped on the door twice and received a quiet ‘come in’, so she swung the door open and entered.

“Morning” Franky greeted cheerfully as the door slammed shut behind her. She stepped further into the room but remained standing.

Bridget was stood behind her desk at the water filter with her back to Franky and the sharp noise made the blond jump slightly. It didn’t seem like the older woman’s usual greeting, normally there would be a ‘Gday’ or something by now. When Bridget turned Franky wondered if she was ill because the blonde was knocking back the plastic cup of water and donning a pair of really black shades. The usually well put together older woman looked fucking trashed.

“What’s with the sunglasses?” Franky asked as Bridget approached from behind the table, virtually empty cup still in hand. “Are you going for the men in black look?”

The blonde deposited herself in her normal chair without any grace at all and groaned, propping her legs up on the coffee table as she made the noise. It was something she’d probably roast an inmate for doing so something definitely wasn’t right.

“I went out drinking with Vera last night” Bridget explained, her voice a little more hoarse that usual.

The brunette inmate nearly fell over at the shock of hearing those words. She’d kind of gathered that Bridget and the acting Governor had mended fences, perhaps even got on now but drinking together was more than an okay working relationship. Franky half wondered if Bridget was taking the piss out of her but from her dishevelled state it appeared unlikely.

“Sorry did I hear that right, you went out on the lash with Miss Bennett?!” the brunette clarified. Her voice raised half an octave as she spoke and the older woman cringed.

“Shhhhh” Bridged implored, “I’m so fucking hungover Franky.”

Franky wanted to laugh at the blonde’s truly pathetic tone but she placed her hand over her mouth to prevent the sound escaping her lips.

“When she said she fancied something strong and alcoholic I didn’t think she was going to take me to a tequila bar” Bridget continued.

If anyone except Bridget had tried to tell her that Vera Bennet could knock back the tequila’s then Franky wouldn’t have believed them. The acting Governor was usually so uptight and rigid that the inmate couldn’t imagine her ever cutting loose. It appeared that Vera was actually quite the drinker though and poor Bridget had clearly tried to keep up with her…and failed. Franky couldn’t hold back any longer and began to laugh out loud. The blonde grunted in response and sunk down lower in the vulgar coloured chair so that her lower back was on the seat of the chair and her knees bent high so her feet remained on the coffee table. She was wearing a dark blue jacket which had a similar cut to the grey jacket she wore so regularly and the collar was zipped right up to her chin.

“I think she’s killed me” Bridget bemoaned.

Franky made her way towards the back of the room where Bridget had been only a minute or so before. The psychologist didn’t remark on her movement or ask her to stop so the inmate reached for another plastic cup and began to fill it with water. She wondered if the blonde had any aspirin hidden away in her office because it didn’t look like the kind of hangover you could wash away with a few cups of water and some coffee.

Franky was amused that Bridget had got herself in this state but she also felt a twinge of jealousy. It was mainly just because other people were getting to spend time with the blonde whilst she was still incarcerated but there was a little fear that perhaps if Vera was more interesting than she appeared that perhaps she was threat to Franky’s own relationship with Bridget…whatever that currently was. As unlikely a couple as Miss Bennet and Bridget would be at least the acting Governor was a respectable free woman. The inmate had always suspected Vera swung both ways and had long held the view that the then deputy governor had an odd thing for the freaky Joan Ferguson.

“Should I be worried?” she asked across the room. The inmate’s tone was jovial as she was at least half joking but the insecure little girl in her was still scared of Bridget giving up on her.

“Don’t be daft” Bridget scoffed before her tone became serious again. “I think we are friends.”

“That’s cute” Franky mocked as she finished filling the cup and turned to face the older woman again.

Bridget was angled away from her but the psychologist raised her arm above the level of the back of the chair and put her middle finger up at the inmate. Franky chuckled, amused by the fact the older woman let her guard down a bit more when hungover. Or perhaps it was because they had agreed to get to know each other a bit in the sessions. Franky hoped it was also the latter.

“Here” the brunette said as she handed Bridget the cup of water. The blonde smiled at the gesture and took a sip of the cool liquid. Frankie kept moving and sat down in the chair across from the psychologist, letting her legs fall wide apart and placing her hands behind her head.

“So what do you normally drink?” she inquired.

“Not tequila” Bridget fired back instantly. “Wine, beer, the odd gin and tonic…”

Franky found herself smiling at the older woman’s words. In truth she had thought about Bridget a lot for months now and pictured what she would be like in the outside world. It looked like she was on track with some of her guesses.

“Yeah I had you pegged as a wine woman” Franky admitted. “I always imagined you at home cooking a good meal and relaxing with a glass of wine or a craft beer and a good book or a movie.”

Bridget took another large mouthful of her water before placing the now nearly empty cup next to the other empty one on the coffee table next to her feet.

“That pretty much sums up an average evening in the life of Bridget Westfall” the blonde divulged. There was a slight edge to her tone, Franky could swear she almost sounded nervous.

Bridget pushed the sunglasses up off her eyes so they balanced on the top of her head, blinking several times before her eyes became accustomed to the artificial light. Her eyes were duller than usual and red in the corners near her tear ducts. They were not so bad though that they would give away how hungover she was, although the pained frown let the side down.

“Does that sound boring?” Bridget asked.

“No I like cooking and reading” Franky assured her, “and I like you.”

As soon as the words fell out of her mouth they felt monumental and really fucking daring. It was funny how she could ask Bridget so calmly if she wanted to just fuck her in the kitchen and her pulse had barely raced but when they glanced upon the topic of actual feelings…her feelings…Franky still felt surprisingly exposed. She’d said them a million times in her head but voicing them out loud to Bridget was something else entirely. It seemed that Bridget realised the gravity of those simple words too as a smile crept upon her face and her cheeks began to flush. Luckily the blonde didn’t feel the need to press her further.

“I like curling up on the sofa under a blanket” Bridget said, carrying the conversation to safer ground again.

Franky could easily picture the two of them lounging on the sofa watching a movie together or sitting top and tail with Bridget reading a novel and Franky a law textbook. She could picture them getting up to mischief on the sofa too and she couldn’t resist making that part of her imagination known to the other woman.

“Are clothes optional?” the inmate cheekily asked.

The inmate knew she was pressing buttons which in their previous sessions would have caused Bridget to either chastise her or roll her eyes and move on. She couldn’t resist seeing how the blonde would react now they both knew they mutually felt something for the other.

“They’re not remotely essential” Bridget replied smoothly, winking as she reached the end of the sentence.

Franky couldn’t supress her joy at the way the blonde flirted back with her with ease and a huge grin erupted across her face.

“Then I like the sound of an average evening with Bridget Westfall” the inmate responded.

It was Bridget’s turn to grin but Franky didn’t miss the flash of desire in the older woman’s eyes even if she managed to quickly supress it. It would be easy to press on now and try to take advantage of the moment, steal a kiss or two. However, Franky had promised to respect the psychologist’s professional position and she intended to try hard to keep that promise.

“We should probably start the session now” Bridget stated as she glanced at her watch. She had obviously came to the same conclusion as Franky that they needed to take the temperature down slightly.

 

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

**Bridget’s POV**

 

“What do you want to talk about?” Franky asked.

It was an awkward question as Bridget wasn’t really sure she wanted to broach the next subject with the inmate. Following their previous sessions and those that Franky had undertaken with the other psychologist the logical area to discuss was one that the brunette had veered away from in the past. The forensic psychologist wasn’t sure if she had the energy or willpower to face it after god knows how many tequila’s.

In truth Bridget probably shouldn’t be in work today. Not only did she feel like she might be sick at any moment during a period of time she needed to be alert and on the ball but she also risked life and limb driving in when clearly over the limit. If Vera could drink that much and turn up at work for 8am then Bridget felt obliged to do so too. It was also Franky Tuesday and Bridget hadn’t been about to miss one of her two set hours with the inmate this week.

Besides, talking to Franky about trivial stuff was acting as a kind of painkiller. It was certainly distracting her from the headache that had been plaguing her since she had woke up on the sofa still dressed in her clothes from the day before. However all good things must come to an end and Bridget was duty bound to use at least some of their session for its rightful purpose and that wasn’t discussing hangovers.

“There has always been one topic we’ve never really gone into any detail about…” she began carefully only to have the inmate cut in.

“My mum” Franky stated.

The inmate shifted forward in her seat and placed her hands on her knees, her gaze firmly focused on the floor. Bridget watched her body language carefully. It didn’t look like Franky was totally against the idea of talking about her parents or she’d have been on her feet and moving about by now but the hands on her knees were restless which meant she was still uncomfortable. Franky had shifted closer though so Bridget shuffled forward in her seat so her pose mirrored the brunette’s.

“I would never force you to talk about it and I don’t want you to feel like you have to talk about it to please me in any way” she assured the younger woman. “This is one of the reasons you don’t break the patient therapist boundary. I don’t want to accidently emotionally blackmail you into discussing your childhood.”

Franky nodded in response but she still remained transfixed on the floor. It was making Bridget concerned that she had miscalculated how comfortable Franky would be talking about personal matters with her. Suddenly, just as she was thinking about backpedalling or changing topic, the brunette’s hand crept forward of her own knee and grasped Bridget’s hand so it was now held between them.

“I trust you and it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it just makes me so angry” Franky explained. Her eyes lingered on their hands and she began to move the pad of her thumb against Bridget’s own hand. The brunette’s gentle touch felt lovely and Bridget had to remind herself not to get lost in the sensation.

“We can take it as slow as you like” Bridget promised.

This seemed to catch Franky’s attention and she finally glanced up at the blonde. Bridget was half expecting a poorly timed innuendo but instead the inmate smiled warmly at her and nodded. There was still some apprehension in her eyes so the forensic psychologist didn’t push any further, happy to wait for Franky to talk when she was finally ready.

There was nearly a full minute of silence whilst the inmate became transfixed on their adjoined hands again. Then suddenly, as Bridget was giving up hope of them broaching the topic during this session, Franky began to talk.

“As far as I remember she was always fucking nuts” the brunette muttered, shifting in her seat as she spoke. “I remember hearing my dad telling a friend of his that it had all started after giving birth to me.”

Bridget had read Franky’s file from front to back…several times. There was a lot of medical information which painted a picture of the physical abuse and plenty of previous psychological profiles that guessed at the emotional abuse but there was very little to no information about her parents. Post-natal depression was now a commonly recognised condition but twenty years ago it was still poorly understood and rarely treated.

“She always blamed everything on me and I guess after hearing that I always thought it was really my fault in some way” the inmate continued.

Bridget could feel Franky tensing just through their joined hands. Her thumb had stopped caressing and her grip had tightened slightly. The psychologist tried to stay relaxed even though her heart bled for the other woman. Adult Franky may understand the concept of post-natal depression but as a child such a concept would have been totally alien to her. Bridget could only imagine how it must have made her feel and how much guilt she must have carried over her early years.

“Sometimes I’d go to bed and just cry until my dad got home from work and he’d come in and calm me down and send me to sleep. He made me feel safe when he was in the house so when he just upped and went I just…it didn’t feel safe anymore…ever.”

Part way through the sentence Franky’s grip of her hand had released and the brunette sat upright in the seat again. It worried Bridget that the other woman had shifted away from her but she hadn’t closed off completely so the psychologist carefully pushed forward. It wasn’t uncommon for Franky to shift about when they broached the less comfortable topics for her.

“Can I ask what sort of things she used to say to you?” the older woman gently pressed.

 

“That I was trouble…that I was nothing…worthless” Franky recounted, “she’d tell me I was ugly or stupid or anything to make herself feel fucking better at my expense.”

As she spoke she became more and more visibly agitated and her tone became more and more irritable. The brunette was becoming more and more restless and Bridget was expecting her to jump out of her seat and start pacing at any second. To her surprise Franky remained seated but scrubbed at her own face with the palms of her hands.

“See I told you it just winds me up instantly” the inmate muttered.

Just a couple of months ago Franky would have been climbing the walls by now at just the mention of the subject and Bridget wondered if the brunette even realised the progress she was making. Franky set such high standards for herself, it was like she could see an array of colours in others but in herself it was either black or white. As far as Franky was concerned if she wasn’t perfect at something then she was bad at it. Pointing it out to the brunette wouldn’t help though so Bridget needed to take another tact. An idea sprung to mind although she wasn’t sure if it would work.

“You said your father used to calm you down and send you to sleep” she asked the brunette. “How did he do that?”

Franky stopped rubbing her face in frustration and looked straight at Bridget, obviously caught off guard by the question. The younger woman had spent so many years running from her childhood Bridget wondered when she’d last thought about any positive memories. How much small detail could Franky even remember about her father?

“He used to stroke my forehead” the brunette spoke in little more than a whisper. Franky closed her eyes and pressed back in the seat, leaning her head back against the headrest. She was clearly lost in her own thoughts.

Bridget had acquired the information she needed but ethically she probably shouldn’t act upon it. As her patient she shouldn’t technically physically comfort Franky during their sessions and despite the fact the lines were already extremely blurred between them it had been a boundary that the psychologist had planned to keep. The hand holding had been borderline but she could equate it to resting a hand on someone’s wrist to offer them support. What she was thinking of doing was stepping over the borderline yet she found herself climbing to her feet and approaching the younger woman on instinct. She really was doomed when it came to the younger woman. She was the moth to the flame.

Bridget edged slowly, not wanting to make the brunette jump. Franky didn’t seem to notice the movement until Bridget stood directly behind her chair.

“What are you doing?” Franky asked, trusting the older woman enough not to bother opening her eyes.

“Just try to relax” Bridget commanded.

She pressed the palms of her hands down gently on top of Franky’s teal hoodie clad shoulders. The muscles of the inmate’s shoulders tensed for a second before relaxing again. Bridget took that as a signal she could continue so she gave both shoulders a reassuring squeeze before moving her right hand up to the younger woman’s temple. Franky remained motionless with her head tipped back but Bridget could see a smile creeping across the brunette’s face. She was curious about what Bridget was up to.

“I want you to keep your eyes closed and concentrate on what my hand is doing” Bridget instructed. “Then tell me whatever pops to mind about your mother…but remember…if you feel your anger rising focus on my hands again.”

Franky nodded in understanding and she took a couple of really deep settling breaths. Bridget began to move the side of her thumb across the young brunette’s forehead, gently stroking the smooth skin there. Franky was silent at first and her breathing became gradually shallower and more even. The psychologist wondered if her ministrations were working a little too well and Franky was in fact falling asleep. Her concerns were unfounded though as after nearly a full minute the silence was broken.

“All those things she said…they hurt most of all” Franky started to talk in a hushed voice. “It’s funny how the broken bones, the bruises and the cigarette burns are the things that scar the least. Sometimes I have nightmares about her but when I wake up in the night it’s not the sound of snapping bone I hear but her shouting about how I made my own father leave because nobody could ever love me.”

A dispassionate professional would be sat across from Franky completely blank faced despite the brunette’s heartfelt and sad words. Bridget however was too emotionally involved not to reach and her hand stilled briefly as her heart felt like it was being squeezed inside her chest. She’d asked Franky to concentrate on her hands and she was meant to be grounding her so Bridget pushed her own feelings to the side and began the stroking action again.

“I’ve spent years hating her” Franky continued, “but I’ve also spent those years believing every word she said.”

Two silent tears leaked from the corner of the inmate’s pained eyes and tracked down her cheeks. Bridget dropped her hand back down to the brunette’s shoulder again and gave it a comforting squeeze. What she really wanted to do was hunt out Franky’s mum and strangle her. It was irrational considering she knew the woman was suffering from a mental health issue. Rather than making any form of negative comment about the woman she focused in on some of the demoralising things Franky’s mother had said. All that nonsense the woman had spouted to try and make herself feel better at her own daughter’s expense.

“You are not stupid or worthless, you are an intelligent woman and you are going to be a great lawyer” Bridget assured the younger woman.

She leant down and rested her forehead on the crown of Franky’s head. It was a gesture which she hoped would provide comfort to Franky but it was also a selfish act as she wanted to draw comfort from being close to the other woman too. She had never just lingered so close to the brunette before. When they had kissed it had been all passion and fury and there hadn’t been time to really breathe Franky in. She smelt of olive soap and some sort of earthy hair product. It was a good smell and Bridget tried to imprint it into her memory.

“I’m sure you know that you are a million miles away from being ugly” she also pointed out.

Franky snorted in response and tilted her head slightly so that Bridget’s forehead nestled even closer against her.

“That bit I never believed” the inmate admitted. “I know I’m smokin’!”

The psychologist smiled in response, bringing part of her lips into contact with the brunette’s smooth hair. She was sure Franky could feel the movement against her scalp because the younger woman chuckled. The inmate certainly was smoking hot, Bridget had noticed how attractive she was the first time she laid eyes upon her. The brunette had come bursting into a group session to steal away her friend, barely giving Bridget a second glance. The psychologist on the other hand hadn’t been able to take her eyes off her…a problem that had stuck ever since. Franky was captivating and Bridget was well and truly ensnared by her charms.

“As for the last thing” the blonde continued, “well…I wouldn’t worry about that.”

It was the closest to a declaration of love that Bridget intended to go whilst the brunette was still incarcerated. In fact it was further than she had intended to go but given the circumstances she felt Franky needed to know. She was glad she wasn’t looking at the inmates face when she said it though and was happy to be hidden with her face pressed into her hair. Bridget couldn’t resist finishing the sentiment by pressing her lips against the inmates scalp and kissing her softly. It was amazing how easily the urge to show care for Franky overrode all professional decorum.

“I’m sorry I should be keeping some sort of distance really” she admitted out loud.

The inmate shifted in the heat and tilted her head so she could see Bridget. The blonde could see fresh tears in her eyes but this time the younger woman didn’t look quite so sad. Instead she looked hopeful.

“I wasn’t telling you as my counsellor” Franky countered.

Bridget found herself lost in the brunette’s sincere and slightly watery green eyes. She was still bent down so she was leaning over the inmate with their lips now only a foot apart. It would be so easy to just dip down further and press their lips together. Just as the temptation became a little too great the sounds of heavy footsteps resonated in the corridor, coming to a stop outside the door. Bridget glanced up at the wall clock at the same time as Franky. It was nearly ten, the session had flown by far too quickly for the blonde’s liking. Bridget straightened up automatically even though the blinds were drawn and there was no chance of the guard seeing how close together they were.

“Sessions over” the inmate murmured as she rose to her feet.

Like a flash Franky placed her hands on the back of the chair and leant across, placing a swift kiss to Bridget’s lips before straightening up again and winking at her. It was no more than an affectionate peck but it was cheeky. Really Bridget should chastise her but Franky looked so pleased with herself suddenly that the older woman didn’t have the heart to knock her down again. Franky would want to swagger out of the office rather than creeping out with her shoulders down. It was probably half the reason she’d planted one on her in the first place.

“How’s that head of yours now?” Franky asked as she backed away towards the door.

“Better” Bridget smirked, “much better.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Tempus Fugit**

 

**Fandom – Wentworth**

**Pairing – Franky and Bridget**

**Rating – M (bad language throughout and adult content much later on)**

**Summary – Alternative/Extended ending to Season 3 where Franky’s parole is delayed due to the fire. Bridget returns to work at Wentworth but it’s a struggle to throw up professional boundaries again after she had let them previously slip.**

 

**Chapter 12**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

It had been hard for the inmate to refocus after her session with Bridget Westfall. There were two totally different emotions swarming around her head, fighting for dominance. The larger part of the session had been taken up with talk of Franky’s mother which had been emotionally troublesome to say the least. It was a can of worms that she had avoided opening since the events had happened but she had gone there today. She had gone there because she understood that it was necessary for her to deal with those demons to progress but she had also gone there for Bridget.

Not that Bridget had pushed her in anyway. In fact, she had gone out of her way to state that Franky didn’t have to feel obliged to tell her anything because of their ‘relationship’. However, Franky needed Bridget to understand her past. She wanted to air all her demons and faults and fears so that there were no important secrets between them. That way she felt they truly had the chance to go forward together.

Despite her desire to let Bridget Westfall in talking about her mother was hard going although nowhere near as hard going as it would have been without the emotional support the other woman had given her. It had left Franky feeling lighter than she had for years but also deeply sad.

Yet at the same time she was excited and hopeful about the future. Bridget had been true to her word and allowed some time for general conversation between the two of them. There had been flirting and talk of nakedness. Franky had even been able to grab a sneaky kiss for the road. She had swaggered out of the session on a high because the older woman had basically admitted to loving her.

The two feelings together were impossible to balance and Franky had failed miserably for the rest of Tuesday to focus on anything practical. She’d barely slept for fear of her dreams being haunted by memories of her mother. Ironically when she did finally fall asleep it was peaceful and she woke up far more serene then she had felt for a long time. So after a good long early morning shower she had headed off to the library to study.

Four and a half hours later she had skipped lunch and was still buried nose deep in her new textbook, furiously trying to finish an essay that was due in on Friday. Apparently despite her current lack of a tutor she still had deadlines to hit. For part of the morning there had been an educational session with some of the inmates learning some basic maths and computing skills. Franky had kept out of the way in the corner and it had been mildly distracting to have so many people milling around. At least she was safer in a crowd.

“You know you should take regular study breaks right?” an all too familiar voice rang out from the door way.

Franky looked up from her essay to see Bridget Westfall swaggering over to the table she was sat at. The blonde wore a fitted black strappy top, tight stone blue jeans and black heels. The outfit could only just be passed off as suitable work gear and the very sight of her made the inmates draw drop. Literally.

“My face is up here Franky” Bridget quipped as she came to a halt in front of the desk.

The older woman pressed one of her palms down against the surface of the desk and leant forward, giving Franky a tantalising view of her cleavage. The library was currently empty and Bridget seemed keen to flirt as her pose was certainly flaunting her assets.

“If you wanted me to look at your face you should have worn less figure hugging clothing” the inmate countered. Bridget smirked in response and winked.

A few footsteps rang out down the corridor and the psychologist straightened up as the guard passed by the entrance of the library before instantly resuming her pose after he has passed. Franky loved this slightly more daring side of Bridget that was coming to light on her return to Wentworth. The blonde had risked disdain from her peers by bringing books to Franky in her wing and sitting with her out in the yard. Now they were flirting in the library. Hell yeah Franky was enjoying this.

“No breaks” Bridget said, skipping back to the original topic. “You haven’t bothered eating either.”

As she spoke the blonde brought her other hand from behind her back and placed a pre-wrapped sandwich on the desk between them. Franky hadn’t even noticed she had something hidden so was thoroughly surprised by the gift. The only problem was that inmates were not meant to eat in the library. Franky been pushing her luck bringing a bottle of water with her.

“Miss Westfall are you suggesting I break a prison rule?” she asked, gesturing to one of the no eating signs on the wall to the left of them.

Bridget glanced sideways at the sign and smirked. She extended out her right hand and pushed the sandwich even closer to the inmate with her first two fingers.

“I won’t tell if you won’t” the blonde joked.

Bridget really was getting bolder. As much as Franky was trying to avoid trouble she doubted they could revoke her parole over a sandwich so she reached forward and grasped the packaging. It wasn’t anything you could get hold of in the prison itself so it was probably the psychologists own lunch. According to the packaging it was chicken salad on wheat bread and it looked far more luxurious than anything she had ate for the past few years.

 “Thank you” she said to the older woman.

Franky tore open the packaging and took a mouthful of the first half of the sandwich. It tasted as good as it looked. Healthy and nutritious and not a bit like prison food. The inmate hadn’t even realised she was hungry until Bridget had presented the sandwich to her. How the blonde had known was a mystery. There were no cameras inside the library and even if there was, Bridget Westfall didn’t seem the voyeuristic type. That had been more up Erica Davidson’s street.

“Have you been spying on me?” the inmate inquired.

“My office is across the hallway Franky” Bridget chuckled. “I’ve been past this door at least six times and you haven’t moved once.”

That still sounded a little bit like spying to Franky but she was happy to let it slide. After all she’d wanted to command Bridget Westfall’s attention from the moment the other woman had persuaded Miss Bennett to drop the charges against her in this very spot in the library. She wasn’t about to complain now she had it.

Bridget straightened up again and Franky knew there was a distinct possibility that the other woman may be about to leave. As much as she was enjoying stealing these sneaky extra minutes with the blonde she didn’t want this moment to end just yet. There was a group session the next afternoon that Franky could attend and probably would but that wasn’t the same as being one to one with Bridget. There wouldn’t be another definite opportunity for one on one interaction between them until there session on Friday morning. It felt a world away right now. 

“Are you free for a few minutes?” Franky asked, quickly formulating a legitimate reason for the other woman to stay as she spoke.

Bridget tilted her head and regarded the inmate with a curious look. Franky could virtually see the cogs of the older woman’s brain working as she tried to decide if staying was a wise idea. She was probably concerned that the brunette would try to drag her off between the stacks and try to kiss her. As much as Franky would love to get all gung-ho and do just that she wanted to respect Bridget’s position at Wentworth and not let her hormones fuck it all up for the psychologist. 

“Yes why?” Bridget finally answered.

A legitimate reason for the blonde to sit with her was sat on the desk right under the inmate’s nose. Hopefully all her hard work over the course of the day would pay off twice.

“I have this essay due in and no tutor to double check it for me” Franky began to explain.

“I know virtually nothing about law…” Bridget cut in.

Franky expected as much but it wasn’t relevant. She had probably absorbed more information than her previous tutor actually knew so the law wasn’t the issue. After Erica had upped and left it had been harder to motivate herself to complete her qualifications. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, it’s just that the next tutor hadn’t been able to challenge and motivate her as well. The fact he was a man…and not even an attractive one…may have factored into that but it was mainly because he was of very average intelligence. Erica Davidson had been very fucking clever and it had made Franky work harder to keep up.

“I know the content it’s the grammar I need some guidance with” the inmate explained.

The psychologist grinned broadly and started to make her way round the table to the same side as the inmate. She grabbed an empty chair as she moved and planted it down next to the brunette. Franky knew she was probably grinning like an idiot but she couldn’t help herself. She’d expected the other woman to sit across from her which would have made her happy enough. Instead they were sat side by side and Bridget had parked herself close enough for their leg to be pressed against the others.

“That I can do” the blonde cheerfully declared.

 

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**Bridget’s POV**

 

Bridget Westfall had never considered herself a deeply sentimental person. She had spent most of her adult life living alone. Even when she did have relationships only two had ever involved her sharing space with another woman and one of them had been for about six months as a fresh faced 23-year-old just out of university. Sure she’d had a five-year spell living with her last girlfriend but that had ended years ago. Even then they had both been workaholics and rarely spent time with the other. It had been nice and there had been a spark between them but there had been no storybook romance. Bridget had loved her as a person but hadn’t been in love with her and the feeling had been mutual.

Her normal lack of sentimentality had perhaps made her attraction to Franky Doyle stand out more starkly in Bridget’s horizons. Instantly attracted to the younger woman and totally intrigued by her she had let her guard down and the inmate had gotten right under her skin. Now Bridget couldn’t stop thinking about the brunette, couldn’t stop dreaming of her, couldn’t help but try and protect her and couldn’t prevent herself seeking her out and sneaking some extra moments with her. It was exposing the psychologist to the risk of losing her job and her good name in the profession.

Regardless of that risk Bridget had found herself drawn to Franky again this afternoon. The younger woman had been in the library for hours and Bridget had passed by several times over that period. The inmate hadn’t moved from her seat in that whole time and had obviously skipped lunch. The blonde usually brought her own lunch to work with her, rarely risking the inmate canteen food like some of the guards did. Today she had made an acceptation though and had ate some prison grade lasagne so she could save her sandwich for Franky.

The plan had been to give it to the brunette and then be on her way but then the younger woman had asked for her help and looked at her with those pretty puppy dog eyes. Bridget had been powerless to say no and now she was sat, right next to the inmate in an empty library, proof reading her work.

“I have no idea what half of this stuff means” she admitted to the younger woman. “I have a basic knowledge of the criminal system but I can’t claim to have ever had an interest in this area of the law.”

Bridget had very little interest in ‘tort’ law or civil wrongdoings. The only reason she had any interest in criminal law was on a professional level as she worked on the whole with people who had committed a crime. It seemed that Franky knew her stuff though as there was a lot of content and she seemed to be able to link everything back to a case study or law.

“It’s not my favourite” Franky admitted. “I prefer the criminal stuff.”

Bridget shifted in her seat as she continued to read the essay. As they were sat thigh to thigh anyway this created a delicious amount of friction against the blonde’s leg. Better still it caused the knuckles of their hands to brush together. She knew she should instantly pull her hand away but instead she did something which utterly shocked the brunette. The older woman shifted her hand further and wrapped it around the inmates own. The blonde felt Franky freeze at the contact before the younger woman relaxed again. It was risky but their hands were totally hidden under the table.

“No surprise there” Bridget responded without glancing away from the essay. From the way she continued the conversation no one would have any idea anything was happening out of eye line. “It’s the area you have the closest links too. I’m sure the idea of being able to use your experience to help women like Liz or Boomer must appeal to you greatly.”

Bridget doubted there had been many men or women who had spent time in a correctional facility and then decided to study criminal law. Certainly not many from Franky’s background. If the brunette could achieve her goal of becoming a lawyer though it would make her uniquely qualified to represent women like those incarcerated at Wentworth. There were women here who’s education had been limited or who were vulnerable when committing their crimes. Bridget was sure that with better representation or a better understanding of their own case these women would have ended up with shorter sentences in a lower security facility.

“I already have helped Boomer” Franky mumbled.

The blonde couldn’t help but smirk at how dazed the inmate sounded just because they were secretly holding hands. For someone with a reputation for being a badass Bridget had managed to throw her off her game awfully easily. Temptation to tease the inmate further overrode common sense and she allowed her thumb to start drawing patterns against the other woman’s hand.

“I know Vera told me you’d managed to get most of her extra time removed again” Bridget responded, eyes still trained on the essay.

She could see the brunette smirk out of the corner of her eye as Franky’s thumb began to follow a similar pattern against her own hand. Franky’s hands were a little rougher than her own due to her work in the kitchens. It felt nice; more than nice.

“Was that before or after a few Tequila’s?” the inmate quipped.

Bridget finally gave up the pretence of reading the last paragraph of the essay and turned her head towards the younger woman. Franky had taken so much amusement out of her hungover condition the previous day that Bridget had suspected the inmate would rib her about it for weeks.

“THAT was over lunch on Monday” Bridget responded smoothly, throwing a wink in for good measure.

Franky leant back further in the chair and pressed her tongue against her lower lip. There was a look of mirth in the younger woman’s eyes and perhaps a flash of disbelief.

“Told you…Friends” Bridget reiterated.

She knew the other woman found her and the acting Governor’s new found friendship odd. Hell Bridget found it odd considering the two had basically been at loggerheads over Franky and Ferguson for weeks before Vera had pretty much got her sacked. Bridget wasn’t one to hold grudges though and Vera was actually pretty good company when relaxed.

The brunette let her thumb continue its movements against Franky’s hand as she refocussed on the last few lines of the inmate’s law essay. The inmate seemed content to sit in silence and enjoy the moment.  The young woman was drinking the contact and the moment in.

“Your grammar has been perfect” Bridget commented as she placed the essay down the desk in front of her.

The brunette’s face lit up at the compliment, her wide smile almost childlike. Bridget had rarely gotten to see Franky smile so genuinely but every time the younger woman did the blonde found it devastatingly beautiful.

“Are you sure?” Franky joked, “don’t want to read it again just to be sure?”

Bridget knew that despite the younger woman’s jovial tone she was hiding serious sentiment behind humour. Despite the smile on her face there was a sad look in Franky’s eyes. It made the blonde hurt because she had minutes left before a therapy session started.

At the most inopportune moment one of the guards walked in to do a sweep of the library. They paid the two of them no mind but Bridget gave the inmates hand one last squeeze before releasing it. She had been taking a risk anyway but it would be playing with fire to continue under the watchful eye of one of the officers, especially when rumours had abounded about her original ‘resignation’.

“As thrilling a read as it was Franky I have an appointment to keep” Bridget smiled.

The brunette simply smiled and nodded. The psychologist spared a glance towards the guard. Once they were looking the other way she gave the younger woman’s knee a gentle squeeze before standing up and taking her leave.

“See you tomorrow Gidget” Franky called after her.

She could feel the other woman’s eyes on her as she walked away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Franky sat reading the thriller that Bridget had bought for her in the corner of the room. The library buzzed with life as most of the women from H7 and a couple from H4 waited for their group therapy session. Mixing H7 and H4 together wasn’t anyone’s ideal scenario but they were on the same rota for work duty so therefore free at the same time. Luckily Bridget’s sessions were not mandatory and it currently looked like Kaz and her group of miserable bitches weren’t ‘gracing’ them with their presence.

Franky glanced towards the door again for the third time in as many minutes. She didn’t enjoy group therapy sessions, they usually just involved people moaning about the food or the lack of privacy. It was likely now that most of H7 would go on about Doreen’s cute little sprog. It was amazing how often Josh dominated conversation in the block. It was true what people said about babies making people obsessive and boring. It would normally be a reason for her to stay away and enjoy a moments peace but a moments peace currently involved other inmates trying to bash the fuck out of her. At least the therapy session meant she could sit and check out Bridget Westfall for an hour. That was worth endless talk about baby sick, little boy genitals and earlier lock down times due to low staffing.

Bridget breezed in, her heels sounding a familiar rat-a-tat-tat on the wooden flooring of the library. The inmates all went quiet the second she entered, though not through fear. Bridget commanding respect for all the right reasons. Everyone turned to the front to face the psychologist and Franky shifted out of the corner and into the free seat next to Liz. It was on the front row but tucked as far to the side and away from the door as possible. Bridget’ eyes scanned across the group as she placed her briefcase down on the table.

“G’day ladies” the blonde greeted them brightly.

There was a chorus of “g’day’s” from the women present. Bridget lent back against the desk and smiled at them all. Franky had always admired the easy and relaxed way the blonde presented herself to the women. Most of the guards or staff members were okay but usually interaction with them felt awkward and forced. The only exception was Mr Jackson but even then that was mood dependant. Bridget was always a bundle of cheerful smiles when in public.

“So this is the first of our open sessions” the psychologist explained. “That means you fine ladies decide what we discuss. So if you want advice then ask for advice. If you need to bitch about the food, then bitch away. If you want to know what’s going on in the Game of Throne’s, then I will update you!”

There was a chorus of chuckles from the women. Franky had been in Wentworth so long she had never seen the show but loads of the newer inmates had raged about it. It was stupid things that you missed the most when incarcerated. You got used to the lack of freedom, it just became part of your daily routine. It was the little things you used to enjoy that carry on regardless of your plight.

“Do we have any news on that mad bitch Ferguson?” Boomer shouted from the back row.

Franky cringed at her friend’s question and Maxine smacked Boomer on the arm. It put the blonde psychologist on the spot but the older woman was well used to wriggling out of tight corners.

“No although hopefully she is locked away in a secure facility somewhere howling to the walls” Bridget quipped, offering up a sly wink as she spoke.

This response drew laughter from all those present including the guard who was stood quietly in the corner. He was one of the part timers who suddenly seemed to be working full time hours since Ferguson left. Franky had seen the ex-governor chew him out once because he had a tiny mark on his collar so it wasn’t a surprise he found anything that insulted Joan Ferguson funny.

“I wonder if Bea Smith is howling to the walls yet?” a voice called out from the library doorway. It caused the laughter to die down very suddenly as everyone turned their head to see who was there.

It was Kaz Proctor who had spoken and she was flanked by Kim and two other women from H7. Apparently they had decided to ruin the mood with their presence after all. Franky could feel he atmosphere in the room drop from relaxed to extreme tension. Bridget’s expression didn’t falter but the guard straightened up from his position slumped against the wall.

“What do you reckon Doyle?” Proctor asked. Her little group all giggled like she had cracked an amazing joke.

Franky could feel all eyes on her but she was determined not to get involved in anything. She merely rolled her eyes and got a little more comfortable in the chair, stretching her legs out further in front of her. It was frustrating for Franky to see Kim stood with the group nodding away and acting like she had never been friends with her. She felt guilty that she had hurt Kim but on the other hand she had never made any promises. It was just meant to be comfort sex and she had made that perfectly clear. She certainly had never expected the fucking dumb bitch to get herself thrown inside again just so they could carry on banging. Franky wasn’t sure how that could possibly be her fault. When she finally got to leave then she was never coming back.

“Ladies” Bridget greeted the newcomers. “If you are staying then take a seat.”

The implication was clear despite the psychologist’s pleasant tone. Sit down and join in like adults or fuck off. Apparently it wasn’t obvious to Kaz Proctor though, or she was just ignoring it. The group came a little further into the room and stood against some of the desks to the side of the group of chairs. It was clearly an attempt to be intimidating as they were above everyone else’s seated level. Poor Doreen and her little Josh were the closest to them and she certainly did look intimidated whereas good old Boomer who was on the end of the row behind looked thrilled that there might be some conflict to sink her teeth into. Bridget was still giving little away and she merely quirked an eyebrow at the inmates.

“We’ve heard that Bea is about to be released back into general” Kaz directed her question at the blonde psychologist, “Is that true?”

The other women watched the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Of course the inmates from H4 would be interested in knowing when Smith was about to be released. She was their friend and despite being in solitary for two weeks she was still top dog. Everyone wanted to know that answer to the question not just Kaz Proctor.

“You’re asking the wrong person” Bridget countered coolly.

Franky thought the blonde seemed sincere enough. Bridget didn’t normally deal with the women in solitary, that was another psychologist who Franky had been forced to see instead of Bridget before her parole. So it was unlikely she’d know through her capacity in that role. As the acting Governor’s new best friend there was a good chance the blonde would know before most others. Kaz Proctor wasn’t going to be aware of that though.

“I thought you’d want to find out for your girlfriend” Proctor pressed.

The inmate was practically sneering and it made Franky shift in her seat. She hated people using her against Bridget, it was like the session where Kim went off on one all over again. If the rumours started flying again then Miss Bennett would have no choice but to cut out Franky’s sessions with Bridget again. There wasn’t long to go until parole but the brunette wasn’t sure she could cope without some alone time with Gidget. It would drive her mad.   

“Don’t you want to know Franky?” Kaz taunted.

She may have made a lot of progress but when her back was being pushed against the wall Franky’s first form of defence would always be her sharp tongue.

“Get fucked you psychotic old slag” she spat back at the blonde inmate.

Boomer snorted with laughter but Proctor and her followers just smirked in response and continued to stare at her. She felt like wiping the smile of their faces but she’d already had parole revoked once. If she fucked up again she would be serving the whole seven years.

“Franky” Bridget warned, obviously able to see the ire on her face.

She slumped down in her seat again and crossed her arms. This petulant response made the H7 inmates laugh and Franky heard someone mutter the words whipped. Boomer and Maxine were looking restless and it was obvious the situation could explode at any second.

“Get out” the psychologist instructed.

Bridget’s expression remained impassive despite the fact she was kicking the group out. Proctor straightened up and squared up to the blonde psychologist. Franky didn’t like her body language at all and had to grip the seat of the chair to prevent herself jumping between the two. Doreen was so concerned she wheeled Josh’s stroller from between the two women and round to the front by her and Liz.

“I thought these sessions were for everybody?” Kaz Proctor sneered.

“Out” Bridget demanded, holding her ground.

Kaz took a step forward and suddenly Boomer was on her feet and stood between the inmate and the psychologist. Proctor looked a lot less fucking brash with 6 foot of anger management issues leering over her. Maxine was on her feet too ready to back Boomer up and the guard had edged forward ready to try and break anything up. After a few tense moments Proctor put her hands up in defeat and smiled.

“We’re leaving” she conceded. Kaz and her cronies turned on their heels and stormed out the library.

Bridget nodded towards Boomer in a silent thank you as the inmate retook her seat. There was a collective sigh of relief from the women left in the library but it didn’t remove the negative atmosphere still lingering. Wentworth felt more inhospitable than ever.

“Who needs fucking daytime television hey ladies!” Bridget quipped, diffusing the tension.

 

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The sound of the external gate sliding shut behind her felt like a weight lifting of her shoulders. It had been a really tough day and Bridget really needed to go home, get changed, and have a glass of wine or two. First of all, she’d had a new inmate spit at her during a routine induction session. Then another inmate had decided to have a complete melt down about one of the other inmates during her morning one on one therapy session. To top it all off some of the women from H7 led by Kaz Proctor had made a nuisance of themselves in one of the group sessions.

There had been a moment when she had thought she was about to get into a scrap with the inmate before Sue Jenkins had leapt to her defence. It was an honour she didn’t know whether she had earnt for herself or whether the big inmate had done it for Franky’s sake. Either way it had been a timely intervention and prevented Bridget having to put her questionable self-defence skills into practice.

As relieved as the blonde was to escape Wentworth until the morning she also felt bad knowing Franky was still trapped inside its walls. Despite the content of Proctor’s questions being about Bea Smith there had been a lot of malice aimed at Franky. There was no logical reason for Franky to be a target other than the fact her ex fuck buddy was now part of team Proctor. The brunette inmate had shown no interest in the top dog position and was trying to keep her head below the parapet. It seemed that others were determined to still shoot at her regardless. That scared Bridget. There were still two weeks to go until Franky’s release and two weeks were a long time for her to dodge trouble.

Bridget opened the door to her Porsche and slid into the driver’s seat, haphazardly throwing her bag and coat behind the passenger seat. She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Franky had been so tense during the group session but apart from one little outburst she’d held her temper well. The blonde had found it hard to keep her focus divided evenly across the group after Proctor’s outburst. Her eyes had kept creeping back to the brunette inmate, checking that she had calmed, checking she was okay.

A rap on the passenger window made her shoot bolt upright in the seat. She looked to the left to find Vera Bennett peering through the window at her. Bridget waved to acknowledge her and the acting Governor opened the passenger door and got into the car with her.

 “Hey are you okay?” Vera inquired as she slid the car door closed behind her.

Bridget nodded and smiled. It wasn’t a lie. It had been a shit day but you expected shit days when working at a Corrections Facility.

“I believe you had some trouble in the group session earlier?” the acting Governor enquired.

She had been wondering if Vera was there in her capacity as Bridget’s friend or in her professional role. It had surprised her that she hadn’t been called to the other woman’s office before the end of the working day to discuss the incident. Perhaps Vera had been caught up with other things.

“Mhmmm” Bridget admitted. “Proctor was demanding to know when Bea Smith is going to be released.”

“Tomorrow afternoon” Vera cut in.

The blonde hadn’t been expecting an answer to the inmate’s question. She certainly hadn’t been expecting the answer to be so soon.

“I’ve cleared it with the Detectives” Vera explained. “The quicker we get her back in with the women the better. Every prison needs its pecking order.”

Bridget knew Bea being released back into general would take the heat off Franky but she wasn’t convinced they would all just fall back into a pecking order. She had gotten a good look at Kaz Proctor today and that woman was going to be trouble. There was going to be a war between her and Bea Smith. Bridget hoped Vera was ready to police it.

 “I don’t think Proctor is interested in the current pecking order” Bridget stated.

“She’s a known violent criminal and ringleader so it was obvious she would always try for top dog” the acting Governor responded. “Unlike Bea she’s not a lifer and that means she will have her boundaries.”

Bridget understood the implication perfectly. Vera expected some trouble but was confident Bea would be willing to go the extra mile required to stay as top dog. What was another few years on a life sentence? Bridget still found it hard even in her professional capacity to reconcile Bea Smith the intelligent and perceptive woman with Bea Smith the cold blooded killer.

A firm hand came to rest on her shoulder and Bridget turned to face the other woman.

“Go home” Vera instructed. “No doubt it will be another long day tomorrow.”

If today was anything to go by Bea’s Smith release into general was going to be like letting of a firework in an enclosed space.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Cleaning duty never bothered Franky. Other inmates would moan like bitches about having to spend hours mopping hallways but she would just switch off and work on autopilot. She almost welcomed the ache in her muscles afterwards. It was a bit like a good workout. Cathartic.

The only place she didn’t enjoy having to  mop was the lower corridor. Ever since Meg Jackson it had held nightmarish memories. That moment where she felt the shiv rip through Miss Jackson’s flesh and blood poured onto her hand seemed to get stuck on loop, replaying over and over again in her head. Since addressing those issues first with Bridget and then with Will Jackson the corridor’s effect on her had been lessened but it still felt haunted.

It wasn’t just her history in the corridor that made her weary of catching cleaning duty down there. It was virtually always empty and the guards only seemed to patrol it every ten minutes or so. That left you alone and exposed for quite a long period of time. When Wentworth was running smoothly then that wasn’t much of an issue but when everyone was on edge and you were apparently target number one…well then it felt a lot more like an issue.

The atmosphere today was awful. The tension was more palpable than ever because a rumour had gone round the women that Bea was getting released later. Franky wasn’t sure if it was bullshit or if one of the screws had blabbed or been overheard. The end result was the same though. Proctor had been a bitch at breakfast,  getting in people’s space and threatening them. Then she’d ‘ accidently' tipped one of the women from H2’s tray in her lap. No doubt she was trying to convince people to follow her and not Bea.

Franky was really fucking relieved she would be away from all the shit in a couple of weeks. She was sick of all the power plays and the in-fighting. She just wanted a fresh start. It would feel strange walking out of Wentworth knowing her friends were still inside living through all the bull. They wouldn’t resent her for getting out though, not now, and Franky hoped she would be able to help them all in some way.

A quick glance at the clock told the brunette it was only just past eleven in the morning. So far she had managed to mop about half the corridor and had only seen one other person during that time. It had been a guard but they seemed to be patrolling this part even less than usual, probably because they were still understaffed. So it caught her by surprise when she heard clicking footsteps coming down the stairs in her direction. She’d recognise the sharp heeled footfall anywhere.

Bridget rounded the corner and into the corridor, coming to an abrupt halt when she saw Franky in front of her. The older woman obviously hadn’t been coming to see the brunette as her presence had completely thrown the psychologist off guard.

“Hey” Bridget greeted. She was wearing a mid-thigh length black skirt and black fitted top. Its neckline dipped low, revealing the swell of her breasts  which were highlighted by a gold eye catching pendant. The blonde’s hair was tied up in a perfectly sculptured bun.  Her blue eye make-up tied her blue and black heels into the outfit. Bridget looked stunning and the inmate couldn’t help but look her up and down appreciatively.

“Hey” Franky replied earnestly. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?”

The psychologist blushed and dipped her head, shuffling from foot to foot under Franky’s gaze. Her eyes then flashed up towards the security camera, obviously remembering they could be being watched, before she straightened up.

“Supply closet” Bridget explained. “I need printer paper.”

Franky could think of at least three comments she could make about Bridget and the privacy of the store cupboard but before any joke could leave her lips she stalled. She had warned the blonde psychologist about wandering alone in the prison already and yet here she was in probably the most isolated area of the facility.

“Isn’t there a guard to send for it or at least escort you!” the inmate asked, frustration clear in her voice.

“They are down on numbers and I really need to print a report out for…” Bridget began to casually explain but Franky didn’t let her finish.

“Bridget I’m serious you shouldn’t be down here on your own” she cut in.

The inmate couldn’t understand why the forensic psychologist had no regard for her own safety. It was as frustrating as hell for the brunette. Kaz proctor had put a right show on the day before and she was the kind of woman who would jump a prison guard or staff member if she thought it would have the desired effect. If Kaz wanted to fuck Franky up but couldn’t get to her then Bridget was an obvious target.

“Well luckily I’m not alone am I” Bridget quipped. The older woman rolled her eyes at what she obviously thought was Franky’s paranoia.

The brunette inmate shook her head but couldn’t stop the smile creeping across her face. Despite her concerns about the other woman’s safety Franky was glad of the few seconds alone with the blonde. Apart from the two  hour long sessions a week everything else was just stolen moments but they were still moments Franky cherished. It wasn’t worth wasting them arguing.

“You’re on edge” Bridget stated.

‘On edge’ was probably an understatement. The whole prison felt like it was about to implode and there wasn’t an inmate inside its walls that the building pressure failed to touch.

“The women are saying Bea is getting released back into general today” the inmate said by way of an explanation.

Bridget nodded her head in understanding. The older woman glanced down at the ground and swung her heeled foot forward and backwards a couple of times. Franky wondered if she’d said something wrong because the blonde looked suddenly awkward.

“They are right” Bridget finally responded, “she’s being released in about two hours.”

The older woman had obviously been tossing up whether or not to tell Franky despite it not being very professional of her or to say nothing. Franky was glad of the heads up but it wasn’t like she was going to shout the news out to the other inmates. If Proctor knew for sure that Bea was being released then all hell would probably break loose.

“You really shouldn’t be wandering around on your own then” Franky persisted with her earlier train of thought. “Just for today…promise me you’ll have a guard escort you.”

Bridget looked taken aback by her plea. Despite the fact Bridget was trying to contain her reaction Franky could still see by the way the blonde tilted her head and regarded her with soft blue eyes. The older woman looked touched that she would be so concerned for her health. Considering this was the third time they’d had the conversation Franky was surprise the effect hadn’t worn of by now.

“Franky I…” Bridget stepped forward into the space between them. She was closer but there was still a mop and mop bucked situated between them. It was close enough to look suspicious though if a guard rounded the corner or anyone was watching on the security camera’s.

The blonde seemed to realise this too and glanced up at the camera awkwardly. Instead of saying what she was going to say Bridget chose to smile at her, conveying enough affection for Franky to understand she was grateful she cared but wished the inmate would stop fussing over her. The brunette gripped the mop in her right hand just that little bit harder to try and supress the urge to reach out and make contact with the blonde in some way. Bridget seemed to understand and took a step back away from the inmate.

“ I'd better go get that paper” Bridget stated before walking past the brunette and down the corridor towards the store room.

 

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**_Bridget POV_ **

 

Bridget hadn’t dared stop and talk to the beautiful inmate after retrieving what she needed from the store. Instead she smiled warmly at the brunette as she passed just a little closer then she would have if it was any other inmate. It would have looked odd for her to stop twice if the footage was reviewed by security. It wasn’t just the risk of arousing suspicion though although that was high on her list of priorities. There had been a tension when they spoke. Franky was on edge and was heavily projecting her own safety fears  onto Bridget. It was quite endearing that Franky worried about her but on the other hand Bridget was a grown woman who had worked this kind of prison for a long time. Far longer than Franky had been incarcerated in one.

She couldn’t deny that tensions in the prison overall where high. She was concerned for Franky’s safety far more than she was for her own because despite the fact the women of H7 had rudely interrupted her group session that was clearly aimed at riling the brunette inmate and not her.

As she emerged up the stairs from the lower corridor she was struck by how  quiet it was. It was always empty down in the lower corridor but she was now in a bustling part of the prison. There were usually women milling around as part of work duty, or they were heading to the educational suites or the yard. It was never this quiet. Even without the tension and the conversation just minutes before with Franky it would have alerted suspicion.

The lights in the corridor flickered and Bridget looked up at them suspiciously. It was unusual for there to be power fluctuations; she certainly hadn’t seen any during her time at Wentworth. They flickered again and then turned off completely, plunging the corridor into utter darkness.

“What the fuck” Bridget froze.

If there was a power cut the emergency generators should kick in any second and the lights would come back on. Except the lights were not coming back on. Instead the secondary emergency lights came on. They were small blue lights that ran off charge for a couple of hours. She had never seen them in action before and was unnerved by the minimum amount of light they threw off. It was literally only enough to see the outline of the corridor. Then the sirens started sounding. Bridget had heard the sirens before several times over the years. It usually signified a riot.  

For several moments she stayed rooted to the spot but then she heard footsteps and shouting echoing not far away. The sound was getting closer. More than likely it was Proctor and her women coming for their number one target. She should run in the other  direction where there would be guards and zones of the prison not accessible to prisoners. Except then Franky would be alone and isolated and no matter how biased it would make her look the psychologist didn’t give a flying fuck right now.

Bridget dropped the packs of paper, turned and started to run back in the direction she came. It wasn’t easy in the semi dark or the heels she was wearing. As she turned the corner on the stairwell she came face to face with the woman she was running to protect. They nearly collided, only managing not to do so because Franky grabbed the railing to balance her as she slammed on.

“Bridget what the fuck!” the brunette exclaimed.

“All hell is breaking lose up there” Bridget explained, “and hell is heading your way.”

She knew they couldn’t stand still and discuss it so she passed Franky and carried on down the stairs. The inmate turned on her heels and followed, throwing up her hands up in irritation as they moved.

“You did not just run from the safety of the guards and into fucking danger?!” the younger woman shouted over the sirens in disbelief.

Bridget ignored the question and kept moving. As ‘unconventional’ and dangerous as her actions were she was surprised the brunette was surprised. She had shown herself willing to put herself on the line before for the inmate. Her career had nearly gone south in her earlier attempts to protect the younger woman from Ferguson.

Once down the steps they jogged down the corridor Franky had previously been cleaning. There were two options at the end of the corridor. Left would take them back towards the rioting women but there were guards and secure areas in that direction. Right would hopefully take them away from the riot but deeper into the vaults of the prison and away from the main bulk of the guards. It could potentially leave them cornered.

As they reached the end Bridget could make out the sound of shouting over the sirens and it wasn’t just coming from the stairwell behind them. There was shouting getting closer from the right. Obviously Proctor had decided to pull a pincer movement of Franky.

“They’re coming from both directions” the blonde stated.

“Fuck Bridget!” Franky exclaimed, throwing her arms up again.

The brunette looked back down the corridor, her eyes locking on to the mop bucket. Bridget could tell exactly what the inmate was thinking and although she didn’t doubt the inmates fighting skills they were likely to be very outnumbered. No they needed somewhere secure to hide out and she knew just the place.

“I have a better idea than your mop” she called out over the siren, grabbing the brunette’s hand. “Come on.”

They went left and Bridget pulled the brunette down the corridor despite the fact  her feet were killing her. She only stopped running when they reached the store room she had retrieved the paper from just minutes before. The psychologists card was clipped to the top of her skirt and she fumbled around with her shaking free hand to get a grasp of it.

“You do know as an inmate this is a restricted zone from me?” Franky pointed out.

The inmate squeezed their linked hands a little tighter as Bridget finally got the card in her hand. The blonde slid the card down the magnetic strip on the lock, making the light on the mechanism flash from red to green.

“I’m sure given the circumstances Vera will overlook it” the older woman scoffed.

She swung the door of the store open and unceremoniously shoved Franky inside. A quick glance down the corridor assured her that no one was yet close enough to see where they had hidden. The door was really solid but with enough concerted pressure she had no idea if it would hold. She followed Franky inside and slammed the door behind them. It plunged them into total darkness.

“There is no light in here” the inmate stated.

Bridget chuckled at the obviousness of the statement. She couldn’t see the younger woman at all as her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet. They were still holding hands and Bridget could feel the brunette’s breath lightly brushing against her face so she knew they were stood close together. Franky was to the left side of her, angled to face her.

“No I doubt the prison budget would stretch to emergency lighting in a closet” the blonde quipped in an attempt to diffuse some of the nervous tension. “If it wasn’t a legal requirement I’m sure they wouldn’t bother at all.”

Franky snorted and shuffled slightly closer. The tips of her feet now pressed against the side of Bridget’s heels. They fell in to a short silence and the psychologist could virtually hear the inmate’s brain ticking over.

 “Why did you do that?” the younger woman asked in a hushed tone.

Bridget blinked a couple of times, trying to bring the woman next to her in to some sort of focus. It was still too dark though and she couldn’t tell by her tone if she was angry or just scared. Whatever Franky was feeling she was trying to mask it.

“Do what?” Bridget asked, despite the fact she was well aware of what the inmate was talking about.

“Run straight into trouble” Franky expanded her question. “You knew they were coming for me.”

The psychologist sighed and held the brunette’s hand a little looser, skimming her thumb over the younger girls knuckles.

“If you don’t know the answer to that by now Franky…” Bridget trailed off towards the end of the sentence.

It frustrated her when the brunette doubted her feelings or intentions. They had been getting so much closer over the last week since Bridget’s return to the facility. She had taken stupid risks to spend time with the younger woman. She’d taken stupid risks whilst they had been together. They had held hands under the library table and kissed in Bridget’s office. She would rather have the brunette’s anger than her doubts.

The inmate didn’t respond but seemed to shift even closer. Bridget could feel the warmth of her breath against her cheek now and the younger girl’s chest pressing against the outside of her arm. It was hard to focus with Franky Doyle so close to her. The last time they had been this close Bridget had been pressed between the brunette and the office desk, her hands under the other woman’s top. It made Bridget’s temperature rise just thinking about it.

“We are probably going to be here a while” she stated. Her mouth felt dry from the implication. 

The younger woman grunted in response, acknowledging the truth in Bridget’s words without fully catching their meaning. The blonde knew she should take the other woman’s moment of innocence as a gift. She should let the moment slide  past, take a step away from the brunette and try to cool down. Franky was right there though and so she was so fucking irresistible. There wouldn’t be another opportune moment like this until the inmate was out on parole. Even then they would have to be careful and discreet for a long time.

 “Franky there are no camera’s, no lights, no one knows we are here…” she reiterated. Desire had won out over common sense in the end.

The younger woman’s breath hitched and Bridget could feel her tense against her. Despite the tension Franky seemed to press impossibly closer against her side so Bridget knew it was okay to proceed. She turned so they were facing each other, chest to chest, and cupped the brunette’s cheek with her free hand. Franky gasped again but moved slowly to meet Bridget half way. Their lips met softly and a little bit sloppily, Bridget missing slightly in the dark and only catching the corner of the brunette’s mouth. Both of them giggled and readjusted but when they pressed back together again  her softness soon vanished and erupted into passion.

 

Tbc next chapter…

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_The younger woman’s breath hitched and Bridget could feel her tense against her. Despite the tension Franky seemed to press impossibly closer against her side so Bridget knew it was okay to proceed. She turned so they were facing each other, chest to chest, and cupped the brunette’s cheek with her free hand. Franky gasped again but moved slowly to meet Bridget half way. Their lips met softly and a little bit sloppily, Bridget missing slightly in the dark and only catching the corner of the brunette’s mouth. Both of them giggled and readjusted but when they pressed back together again he softness soon vanished and erupted into passion._

**_Franky POV_ **

 

Franky felt like the room had started to spin as soon as her lips had come into contact with Bridget Westfall’s. The blonde was eager and she pressed forward into Franky, entwining one hand in the brunette’s hair. The other hand grasped at Franky’s arse and pulled their hips together.

She hadn’t expected anything like this to happen again whilst she was incarcerated. The psychologist had asked for a vague professional boundary to remain but now the older woman had leapt over that boundary. Bridget was kissing her with so much vigour that the inmate could barely keep up. The blonde pressed her backwards until she slammed into a shelving unit. It rocked violently but whatever office supplies it housed weighed it down enough to keep it upright.

They pulled back to gasp for air before coming back together again. Bridget nipped and sucked at Franky’s lower lip causing the younger woman to groan into the kiss. The blonde’s hands made their way to the bottom of Franky’s vest top, sliding flat palms underneath the clothing, and smoothing them up the inmate’s abdomen. Franky’s body temperature seemed to race upward at the touch even though her skin was tingling and breaking out in to goose pimples. Bridget’s mouth and hands were so hot against her that if they didn’t stop soon then they wouldn’t be stopping at all.

Franky pulled back from the kiss for some much needed oxygen just as the blonde raked her nails back down the younger woman’s stomach until they snagged on the waistband of her teal tracksuit pants. The sudden heightening of sensation caused Franky to arch forward into the touch and the back of her head thumped against the shelving unit. She barely noticed the pain although she was sure she would be tender there later.

“I thought…?” she gasped out.

She was unable to complete the sentence because the psychologist lowered her head and began to kiss and suck down her neck. It was dark enough that every movement caught her by surprise. 

“I know” Bridget breathed against her neck between kisses.

Franky was drowning in sensation as the blonde sucked on the pulse point of her neck. The psychologist’s hands continued to map up her stomach, brushing the underside of her breasts through her fluorescent green bra.

The inmate was turned on already and she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop if Bridget kept up her relentless attention with both her mouth and hands. Not that Franky wanted her to stop. After all, they were alone in a locked cupboard and were likely to remain undisturbed for a while. She was mindful of the conversation in Bridget’s office still and the last thing she wanted was to get the older woman in trouble.

“But you said…” she began to express her concerns.

“I know” Bridget cut her off again. “Just fuck me.”

Franky let out a guttural groan at the older woman’s words. Yes, she was already turned on but hearing Bridget demand to be fucked had revved up her engine considerably. There was nothing to lose really. Even if they didn’t fuck here and now people would still suggest they did because they were locked in together. As long as no one could prove anything they would hopefully be fine. An opportunity of this type wouldn’t come along again until the inmate was released so she decided to embrace it.

With renewed vigour Franky found the blonde’s lips and kissed her hard, pushing her tongue into the older woman’s mouth and exploring her fully. This time it was Bridget who was caught by surprise and Franky used the other woman’s moment of distraction to easily turn them so it was Bridget pressed back against the shelving.

The blonde hooked her left leg around the inmate’s leg, pressing their hips tight together. Franky rocked her hips forward against the older woman’s and delighted in the way Bridget broke the kiss to moan her name. She made the most of their parted lips by grasping the hem of Bridget’s deliciously revealing top and pulling it over the blonde’s head in one swift movement. She placed it on the shelf behind the other woman’s head.

It was too dark to see Bridget clearly but she could just about make out the outline of her black bra in the dark where it contrasted with pale skin. As disappointing as it was not to be able to see and visually admire the blonde it was also exciting to allow her other senses to come to the fore. She reached out and pressed her fingertips to the older woman’s shoulders, marvelling at how smooth and unblemished the skin felt. The inmate trailed her hands down slowly, mapping the skin across prominent collar bones and down over her chest. When she reached the lacy material of Bridget’s bra she flattened her hands and palmed her breasts through the thin barrier.

Bridget’s hands fumbled around for the bottom of the brunette’s white vest top before grasping it and pulling it over Franky’s head. The older woman discarded it over her shoulder somewhere on the shelf next to her own.  As soon as the top was over her head Franky launched forward and kissed the blonde again. Bridget dug her nails into the base of the inmates back, pressing them firmly against each other. The younger woman sunk forward against the blonde’s soft warm skin. It contrasted the way their mouths roughly and urgently collided.

Franky slowly let her hands slide down the psychologist’s sides, coming to rest briefly on her skirt clad hips. She only lingered there a few seconds before smoothing them down over the material covering Bridget’s thighs. When she reached the hem of the skirt she dipped her hands underneath the garment and trailed her fingertips back up Bridget’s thigh again, this time between material and skin, the movement hitching the skirt up. When her fingers reached lacy underwear she paused, simply hooking her fingertips inside the band.

Franky had no desire to stop what they were doing but she wanted to make sure, one final time, that Bridget was comfortable crossing that boundary. She didn’t even get the chance to utter a word between kisses. The blonde seemed to understand the pause and grasped the younger woman’s hands, pressing them south and dragging the pants down her thighs. It was silent permission to continue. Franky crouched down as she drew the lacy material down Bridget’s legs, allowing her to neatly step out of them. She returned to a standing position and placed them on the shelf behind them again. It was more methodical than she would have planned but they had to be careful not to lose anything in the dark. They couldn’t get caught.

The inmate turned her head towards the older woman and nuzzled her cheek. Despite the cautious nature of their union Franky was incredibly turned on. For her it had been quite a while since she’d had sex. It hadn’t been since Jodie which was weeks and weeks ago. Ever since she’d first encountered Bridget the urge to get her kicks with random women in the prison had disappeared and she’d been totally focussed on the psychologist and getting parole. What she had been doing with Jodie and before her Kim was nothing like what was occurring now. That had all been about relieving tension and distracting herself from prison life. Kissing Bridget just seemed to increase the tension she was feeling in her chest.

“Franky” the blonde encouraged when the inmate remained still in front of her.

The brunette dipped her mouth away from the smooth cheek and captured Bridget’s lips again in a searing kiss. She trailed the tips of her fingers up the inside of the blonde’s thighs, allowing her nails to scrape lightly without the risk of leaving marks. The muscles there twitched at the contact and the older woman let out a delicious giggle. The inmate hadn’t heard such an adorable sound leave the psychologists mouth before and it made her smile against her lips.

“Ticklish?” she asked.

The answer was obvious really especially when she repeated the action and got the same response. Bridget squirmed under her feather light touches and giggled again. As much as Franky was enjoying teasing her time was at an essence. The younger woman would certainly enjoy teasing Bridget when they could go at a more leisurely pace…but today was not that day. As her fingers trailed higher Bridget’s kisses became more intense and demanding and her hands tangled in the younger woman’s hair. The kiss turned into an open mouth gasp as Franky’s fingers reached their target and she traced the blonde’s folds.

“Oh god” slipped from the psychologist’s lips. 

Bridget was just as aroused as Franky felt and her fingers glided easily, circling the older woman’s clit one way and the other, and drawing another loud gasp from her. The inmate rested her forehead against the blonde’s and focused solely on the movement of her own hand and the sounds she was drawing from Bridget. If a movement caused a louder gasp from the blonde Franky repeated it, learning what the other woman seemed to enjoy the most.

Bridget unravelled her right hand from the brunette’s hair and pressed it down between them, slipping it under Franky’s prison issue trousers and underwear. The second Bridget’s own fingers came in to contact with Franky’s more intimate parts the younger woman arched forwards, pressing the blonde back harder into the shelving.

“You’re so wet” the older woman growled.

All Franky could do was nod her head against the older woman as she got lost in the sensations that Bridget’s touch was giving her. It was making it hard to focus on her own finer motor movements so she pressed her hand forward and slid two fingers into the blonde. At first she kept them still inside of the older woman, revelling in the feeling of touching her this intimately. Bridget’s own movements briefly stilled as she adjusted to the penetration.

When Franky did start to move her fingers she did so slowly, drawing the movement out so it was long and deep. Her thumb was angled so that every time she was deep and curled her fingers inside the blonde her thumb also pushed against her clit. It was certainly having the desired effect as Bridget rocked her hips against the brunette’s hand and gasped or moaned at every thrust. The older woman’s movements with her own hand against Franky had become more haphazard but still felt really good to the inmate.   

“I wish I could see you” Franky breathlessly admitted to the blonde.

In the dark of the storage closet they were afforded the luxury of privacy but very little of anything else. There was no comfort and not even the tiniest bit of light to allow the inmate to see Bridget come apart under her ministrations. She bet the blonde looked spectacular right about now.

“Soon” Bridget replied breathlessly.

The inmate could tell that the psychologist was getting close from the way the muscles of her thighs clenched around the brunette’s wrist. A few more thrusts and Bridget moaned out the inmate’s name, grabbing on to Franky’s shoulders urgently as her legs shook and nearly gave out from under her. Franky wrapped her free arm around the blonde to help keep her upright. Once she’d steadied Bridget’s fingers circled the brunette’s clit with renewed vigour and Franky was soon following her over the edge. They stood still for a while, foreheads pressed together, just basking in the moment.

 

 Lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

**_Bridget POV_ **

 

Despite how uncomfortable the position was, being pressed back against the shelving by Franky’s weight, Bridget wished they could stay in the moment longer. Sadly, no matter how much trouble the woman outside had caused it would undoubtedly be in the process of being tidied up. There secluded time together was running short and neither of them could afford to be caught in this compromising position. The last thing Bridget wanted was to ruin the brunette’s parole for the sake of Franky herself and for selfish reasons. Parole meant she could spend far more time in intimate positions with the younger woman. They would have to be secretive still but it would be in the open outside world not between the regimented walls of a prison.

“We better get tidied up” the blonde sighed.

She shifted forward and pressed one last kiss on the brunette. It was meant to be just a peck but as she pulled away Franky pressed forward and kept the soft kiss going a little longer. It made Bridget smile against the younger girl’s mouth and she could feel Franky smiling in response.

The brunette felt around behind Bridget’s head on the shelf before locating an item of clothing. The lacy material was thrust into Bridget’s hand and she bent down to put the underwear back on. She hoped she had them on the right way around but it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them to notice. She could just about see the outline of Franky shifting around next to her, obviously putting her vest top back on. As soon as the inmate had finished she passed Bridget her shirt. Just as the blonde was pulling the shirt back over her own head the light came on as suddenly as they had earlier switched off. They were harsh after being in the pitch black for so long and Bridget had to blink several times to bring the store room back in to focus.

“And then there was light” Franky remarked.

Bridget smiled at the younger woman who was wearing her trademark sexy smirk. The brunette looked no different than normal despite their activities and from looking at Franky no one would guess anything had happened between the two of them. Bridget hoped she looked as un-dishevelled as the inmate.

“Do I look a mess?” she asked, smoothing her skirt down as she spoke.

The brunette reached forward and affectionately tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. There was a softness in Franky’s expression that made Bridget’s heart pound just a little faster in her chest.

“You look beautiful” the younger woman replied sincerely.

Despite the fact they had been having sex only a minute before the compliment still made Bridget’s cheeks heat up. She knew the brunette was straying out of her own comfort zone with all these open displays of affection and it moved her. It was only when Franky dropped her hand back to her sides that Bridget snapped out of her trance like state staring at the younger woman.

“I presume that if the lights are on then they have the women under control again?” she asked the inmate.

Franky was no more likely to know the answer than she was as the situation had been pretty unprecedented. The psychologist had never been in a situation where the power went down in the prison before. It just seemed logical that they manage with the emergency lighting whilst getting the prison population under control rather than diverting anyone to sort out the electrics. They were already short staffed after all.

“I’d say so” Franky agreed. “I wonder what kind or carnage there is outside?”

Bridget had already turned towards the door of the storage closet and paid little to attention to the rustling sound behind her. She was also dreading finding out the damage that the rioting women had left in their wake. She hoped no one had been seriously hurt. The situation would already look bad for Vera and her ability to govern the facility but a major injury would end any chance of her retaining the position on a permanent basis. Bridget was starting to really believe in Vera and her desire to make a positive change for the women. The last thing they needed was the board to appoint another ‘hard-liner’, not after their last disastrous choice.

The psychologist grasped the handle of the door and pulled it down, cracking the door open so she could peer outside into the corridor. It appeared to be deserted so she pushed it open a little more and stepped into the space she’d made. She felt the inmate step close behind her, close enough that she could feel Franky’s body heat through her shirt. Bridget glanced back over her shoulder to check the inmate was okay. The brunette looked apprehensive and Bridget now knew the source of the rustling she had heard just moments before. The inmate had found an A1 flip chart usually used for training sessions and meetings and had rolled it up into something that resembled a club.

Bridget raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she continued on into the corridor, Franky staying glue to her shoulder and ready to protect her at a second’s notice. It seemed the brunette may need to do just that when loud footsteps suddenly rung out. Someone was coming towards them at speed. Franky pushed Bridget to the side and raised her paper club in preparation. She was half swinging it when a figure emerged around the corner. It was a guard. Somehow Franky managed to retract her club just before it caught the man in the face.

“Jesus Mr Jackson!” the inmate screeched. The brunette dropped both her hands to her knees and bent over, taking a deep steadying breath.

Will Jackson momentarily looked stunned that he had been just a fraction away from being clobbered but quickly regained his composure. Bridget noticed that he was holding her discarded pack of A4 paper in his left hand so must have had a hunch she was down here.

“You’re both okay” the guard said, his voice full of genuine relief. “Neither of you were accounted for so we have just started a search. We guessed you were the target Franky.”

 “Miss Westfall gallantly came to my rescue and locked me in the closet” Franky quipped. “First time I have been stuck in one of them in years!”

Will Jackson chuckled and rolled his eyes over the inmates shoulder to Bridget who remained behind the brunette. She smiled in return and shook her head at Franky’s antics, acting mildly amused so that the guard wouldn’t become suspicious. Will wasn’t a gossip like the others so he was unlikely to say or presume anything lecherous about the situation which was just as well really. He was probably the best person other than Vera for them to have come across first.

“Let’s get you back to your unit hey” the guard instructed. He grasped his walkie talkie and brought it to his mouth.

“Governor I have found them and they are both okay” he relayed. There was a brief pause before the response came.

“Thank god” Vera’s voice rang out on the walkie talkie. “Please send Bridget up to my office.”

Will placed the device back on his belt and handed Bridget her pack of paper. It was fortuitous that she had needed the stationary or god knows what would have happened to Franky. She could have been killed. It was a frightening and sickening thought. She was broken out of her reverie by the roll of paper the inmate was holding being thrust in to her spare hand. She glanced up to find that the brunette was now turned back towards her and looking at her intently.

“Thanks” Franky said now she had the blonde’s attention. “For breaking the rules and stuff for my safe.”

Bridget didn’t get a chance to respond before the inmate was walking away from her with Will Jackson. She took a deep sigh before heading the other way towards the Governor’s office. She hoped Vera wouldn’t ask too many questions about what had happened.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_“Governor I have found them and they are both okay” Will relayed. There was a brief pause before the response came._

_“Thank god” Vera’s voice rang out on the walkie talkie. “Please send Bridget up to my office.”_

_Will placed the device back on his belt and handed Bridget her pack of paper. It was fortuitous that she had needed the stationary or god knows what would have happened to Franky. She could have been killed. It was a frightening and sickening thought. She was broken out of her reverie by the roll of paper the inmate was holding being thrust in to her spare hand. She glanced up to find that the brunette was now turned back towards her and looking at her intently._

_“Thanks” Franky said now she had the blonde’s attention, “for breaking the rules and stuff for my safe.”_

_Bridget didn’t get a chance to respond before the inmate was walking away from her with Will Jackson. She took a deep sigh before heading the other way towards the Governor’s office. She hoped Vera wouldn’t ask too many questions about what had happened._

**_Franky POV_ **

 

The walk back to her unit had been carried out in silence. The corridors were empty as all the women were now on lock down. As she passed some of the other units in H Block some of the inmates stared at her on the way past. Several of those women wore evidence of the riot, either as tears or dirt on their clothing, or cuts on their faces. Franky was becoming more and more concerned for the women in her own unit. She’d been distracted by Bridget before but now, seeing the other women, she hoped her friends hadn’t been harmed.

As she and Mr Jackson approached the barred doors of H1 Franky could see that everyone was present. Liz and Doreen were sat on the sofa and Boomer, Maxine and Sophie were sat around the table. Mr Jackson began to slide open the door and the sound made everyone turn their focus in her direction.

“Franky!” Boomer called out, nearly knocking the table over as she leapt to her feet.

The three cups of tea on the table splashed all over the surface, narrowly missing Maxine and Sophie who had remained seated. Franky smiled in response and winked at her friend. Boomer and Maxine seemed to be the only ones with any marks on them, both supporting forming bruises on their faces. The pair would have been in the laundry on work duty when it all kicked off. The two of them were the strongest in the prison so heaven help anyone who had tried to fuck with them. Franky was sure she knew who would have come off worse.

“Oh love we are all so relieved you are okay” Liz added in from her spot on the sofa. “You had us really worried.”

Franky could hear the sound of the unit door closing over behind her but paid it no attention.  She stepped further in to the block so she was level with the start of the table.

“Are you all okay?” she asked.

Most of them just nodded. They all seemed relaxed except Doreen. The new mother hadn’t said a word since Franky had returned and looked shaken. Franky focused her attention on her and caught her eyes.

“Yeah I hit the panic button as the lights went off” Doreen admitted. “I couldn’t risk Josh so I just thought to hell with the rules.”

The first thing you are told by the other inmates when you enter prison is that you never press the panic button. If you press the panic button you are as bad as a lagger and there will be consequences. Somehow Franky couldn’t see Bea enforcing that rule on Doreen given the circumstances. Plus in this instance the use of the panic button wasn’t likely to increase the chance of retribution any more than they were already at risk.

“Hell yeah fuck ‘em” Franky agreed, shrugging her shoulders.

She was glad to see they were all okay but all she felt like doing right now was going off into her own room for some peace and quiet. That way she could at least revel for a little longer in the fact that just minutes before Bridget Westfall had her hands down Franky’s pants.

Her plan was foiled though when the heavy iron doors to the unit were pulled open again. She turned around just as everyone else looked in the direction of the entrance. Mr Fletcher was stood in the opening but when he stepped aside he revealed the real reason for the disturbance. The top dog was back.

“Bea!” A chorus of voices called out in excitement. Franky was the only one who didn’t speak.

Bea Smith strode in to the unit and nodded at them in acknowledgement, a slight smile playing on her lips. It wasn’t until Bea reached Franky that the younger inmate bothered to acknowledge her.

“Hey Red” she said calmly.

The top dog smiled a little more brightly in response. Now they were stood next to each other Franky could see that the other woman must have been worried about them all because she looked extremely relieved to see them all in one piece. Even in the slots it must have been obvious something was up when the power went off.

“Miss me?” the red head asked. The question was clearly a little tongue in cheek and directed at Franky.

“Yeah everyone may leave me the fuck alone now” the younger inmate replied, her tone dry.

Despite the lack of sentiment she was glad to see Bea back. Obviously with Bea back there would be a sense of order returned to the women and that would mean less hassle for her. They had also patched their ‘relationship’ up over the last couple of months before the fire and Franky would now consider them friends. On top of that Bea had dragged her arse out of the burning building and saved her life.

Bea didn’t seem perturbed by her response anyway and merely smiled again before turning serious. The top dog took a step closer to Franky and looked her over.

 “Mr Fletcher said you were missing?” the older inmate half stated and half quizzed.

It was Bea’s way of admitting she had been worried about her. Franky was slightly touched by the concern but she wasn’t about to confess to it. Instead she resolved to answer the question.

“I was lucky” Franky admitted. “Mrs Westfall had just seen me in the corridor and came back to smuggle me to safety in a restricted area.”

Bea’s smile widened a touch and there was a glint in her eye. Franky had suspected prior to Bridget being sacked by Ferguson that Bea had an inkling about them. Or at least Bea had an inkling about Franky’s own feelings. The expression on the red head’s face, though subtle, suggested Franky had been right.

“She’s one of the good ones” Bea finally replied.

Franky was glad the Top Dog didn’t press any further. She doubted any of the women from her unit would say anything to compromise her even if they did know but she wasn’t taking the risk. They certainly wouldn’t do it on purpose but Boomer in particular and sometimes Doreen had been known for speaking before thinking. 

Bea sidled off around the other side of the table and took the seat next to Maxine. The two shared a warm smile and Maxine patted Bea’s hand affectionately. Franky considered her original plan of isolating herself in her own room. It was still very tempting but the other women were starting to ask Bea questions about her time in the slots and the police investigation and Franky was actually quite interested in what Bea had to say. So she made her way over to the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. 

 

 Lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

**_Bridget POV_ **

 

The walk to the Governor’s Office wasn’t a long one but it seemed to take forever today. It didn’t help that there was evidence of the riot all over the place. A bit of blood in one of the corridors, a chair upturned, one of the phones ripped off the wall. Even though she’d spent the riot in surprisingly enjoyable circumstances it could have been very different. If she hadn’t gone for the printer paper and seen Franky in the corridor then god knows what could have happened to the inmate. It was very likely that the brunette could have been seriously hurt or even killed. The thought of that left Bridget feeling sick and dizzy. She was in love with Franky; there was no denying it anymore. Her feelings and her fear for the inmate’s safety felt like they were pressing down on her chest. She could barely breathe.

There were only a couple of weeks left until Franky made parole but Bridget knew that every one of those days would be thick with fear for her. She only hoped that Will Jackson was discreet about where he had found them because Franky could do without rumours flying around about them adding to her troubles.

One person who would want to know where exactly they had been hiding was the Governor. Bridget couldn’t decide if she’d get ‘Vera’ the understanding friend or the ‘Governor’ who had warned her when giving her the job back that there could be no funny business.

Vera’s PA was sat at the desk just down from the office door and ushered Bridget straight in without knocking. The acting Governor was on the phone when Bridget entered but seemed unperturbed by her presence and merely signalled towards the seat in front of the desk with her hand. Bridget tried to focus on anything but the phone conversation but it was hard to ignore it especially when Vera was pacing back and forward behind her desk.

“Well what did you expect to happen Derek? You filled an entire one of my units with members of the Red Right Hand! ...No I’m not losing control of them it was an isolated incident… A couple of them are already in isolation and we are reviewing the footage now. No doubt we will end up throwing a few more in there…Yes okay. Can I go now?”  

The acting Governor’s tone held plenty of frustration but she was just about remaining polite. Bridget had known Derek Channing for years on a professional basis and he had always grated on her. Oh yes he tried to be a charismatic smooth talker but quite frankly he was an arrogant, lecherous slime ball. He had actually tried to come on to her a couple of times over the years and she had always been stuck between the urge to laugh at him or vomit on him. In the end she had remained professional and just politely verbally batted him away.  

“That man is a fucking idiot!” Vera spat as soon as she slammed the phone down on the receiver.

The acting Governor rarely swore and Bridget always found it amusing when she did. This time was no exception and despite her best effort to hold it in the laughter poured out anyway. Vera closed her eyes and shook her head, letting out a short chuckle at her own irritation.

“Sorry” Vera muttered as she took her seat behind the desk.

“No no I agree with you!” Bridget assured her.

The acting Governor looked extremely stressed. Some of the front of her hair had crept out of the neat bun she wore and was dangling down the side of her face. Her top bottom was also undone making her appear less well put together than usual. This was a dent to her chances of becoming Governor permanently but Bridget hoped the speed and efficiency they managed to turn the situation around despite being understaffed would reflect well on Vera.

“I’m glad to see you are okay” Vera piped up, “but I am going to have to ask you how you ended up in a store cupboard with one of the inmates.”

The fact the acting Governor was getting straight to the point probably bode well for Bridget. It seemed like Vera just wanted to get the conversation over and done with so she could get on with everything else that needed to be done. There would be a time consuming process of reviewing security footage now that Bridget presumed Vera would have to get on with alone or at least with very little help. Everyone else would be needed to police the inmates.

“I’d gone to get printer paper and had stopped and spoken to Franky in the corridor” Bridget explained. “On my way back the lights went off and I heard the riot. I knew they would be coming for Franky so I ran back to her and went to the nearest restricted area which was the store cupboard.”

It was a rather abridged version of the events but it was all true enough. Vera nodded her head and seemed satisfied enough with the explanation of how Bridget had ended up with an inmate in a locked cupboard.

“Well it’s unconventional but it’s likely you saved her life” the acting Governor replied casually.

Bridget hoped that was the end of the line of questioning but when Vera took a deep sigh and leant back in her chair it was clear it wasn’t going to be. Bridget internally braced herself for whatever was coming whilst trying to keep her cool on the surface.

“May I ask how you spent the twenty minutes you were alone together?” Vera inquired.

 “It was pitch black” Bridget responded calmly. “We just stood against one of the shelves and talked.”

It wasn’t completely a lie. It was dark and they had both been propped up by the shelf at one point or another. There had even been a little conversation. Bridget distinctly remembered telling Franky to fuck her. That classed as conversation right?

“About?” Vera probed.

That was the question that Bridget had been dreading. It was easy enough to miss bits out of the original explanation but they had barely spoken whilst in the closet. She racked her brain for what they had actually spoken about because the more truth she could put in her story the easier it would be to sell it.

“Franky chastised me for walking around the prison without a guard as an escort for a bit, flirted at me and talked about the riot” Bridget replied.

All these things were true. It just conveniently missed the fifteen minutes in the middle which involved more moaning than talking. In fact only two of the things were completely true. Franky had actually not been the one flirting and driving things for once. Bridget, in hindsight, had shocked herself with her opportunism. Not that she regretted it in the least.

Vera pursed her lips like she didn’t quite believe her but nodded her head. As acting Governor she was apparently happy enough with the answers given.

“And there was me thinking you’d probably made the most of your time alone” Vera remarked.

Bridget leant back in her own seat and regarded the other woman. Her friend was smirking and Bridget could tell Vera was not trying to catch her out. She still wasn’t willing to admit to her indiscretions though so she merely smiled and shuck her head.

“I’d better get back to my phone calls” Vera sighed. “Do you fancy going for a drink later? I could do with one after today.”

Bridget had just stood up when her friend asked about getting a drink. She could certainly do with a glass (or probably an entire bottle) of wine but the psychologist really didn’t feel like having company tonight. The day had taken its toll on her and she just wanted to grab some take away on the way home, crack open a bottle of wine and collapse on the sofa.

She shuffled from foot to foot, unsure what to say to turn Vera down. The acting Governor seemed to sense her unease though and smoothly offered her a way out.

“Of course I probably won’t finish until late so maybe it’s a plan of action for tomorrow or another night instead.”

Bridget was relieved that Vera had given her the out but she was also weary of the fact it was obvious she needed one. She had always prided herself on her poker face. Whatever the situation she could usually keep her emotions and reactions to herself. Now was not a good time to start wearing her heart on her sleeves.

“Tomorrow night sounds good” Bridget replied as warmly as she could muster.

The acting Governor smiled and nodded once in response so Bridget turned and took her leave. The psychologist was unaware of the worried look her friend was giving her as she turned her back and walked out the office door. 

 

Lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

Bridget had started walking in the direction of her own office but half way there took a detour towards H Block. She had opened up a can of worms by getting intimate with Franky. For days she’d been feeding the need to see the inmate by manufacturing small chances to talk to her. That need felt more powerful than ever even though she’d been with her just half an hour before.

The corridors were all still eerily empty apart from the odd guard due to the women being shut away in their units. Even as she passed some of the units from H block she was surprised how quiet the women where. The mood in the prison was definitely sombre.

When Bridget reached the corridor which housed Franky’s unit the first person she stumbled across was Linda Miles. Some of the guards had been made to work an extended shift, Linda being one of them. The blonde did not look remotely pleased about it. Miles was also the least concerned with rules of all the guards and didn’t even bother questioning Bridget about her presence. Instead the guard just grunted at her and carried on past her to patrol the corridors.  

Bridget stopped outside H1 and looked through the bars. All the women from the unit were either sat on the sofa or sat around the table playing cards. Franky was sat between Jenkins and the younger Birdsworth, facing Bea and Conway. She was angled away from Bridget so didn’t notice her. It was Bea who spotted the psychologist first and the top dog leant across the table and said something to Franky. The younger inmate turned and looked towards where Bridget stood outside the unit. Even from a distance the blonde could see Franky’s face light up.

The brunette leapt to her feet and walked over to the bars that stood between them. In typical Franky fashion she leant right against the bars and pushed her arms through the gaps so she was propped up by her upper arms on the horizontal bar. It meant Bridget was a fraction of a way from being in contact with the inmates dangling forearms but the older woman didn’t move back.

“Hey” Franky greeted in little more than a whisper.

“Hey” returned the blonde.

Bridget glanced up and down the corridor to check it was empty. When she was assured that Linda Miles was still off wandering somewhere else in the block she placed her hand on the upright by Franky’s right hand. It meant that the knuckles of her hand were brushing against Franky’s pinky finger.

“Just thought I’d check everyone was okay” Bridget explained her presence; “what with you having a mother and child in your unit.”

Franky seemed to see straight through her and smiled broadly. Bridget hadn’t exactly made much effort to conceal she was really there to see or Franky. She could have asked Miss Miles to let her in to the unit and spoke to the other women too. Even Linda Miles wasn’t unprofessional enough to leave her alone in a unit full of women though so at least this may they had a modicum of privacy. That is if you could count talking silently whilst six incarcerated women looked on as privacy.

“Everyone is shaken but not stirred” the inmate quipped in response.

Bridget tried to smile at the James Bond reference. The day was catching up on her though and it wasn’t easy for her to front a happy exterior. Franky on the other hand seemed to have it perfected and to anyone who didn’t know her they would presume she was 100% okay. Bridget was well aware of the storm raging underneath that cocky exterior. She only hoped that the arrival of the top dog back in to general would prevent anything dramatic happening again for the next couple of weeks.

Bridget could feel the energy seeping out of her and she rested her head on the cool metal upright bar directly in front of her. Bridget could see Franky tilting her head to watch her more closely out of her peripheral vision.

“Are you okay?” the inmate asked.

It seemed stupid that Franky should be asking her if she was okay. The brunette had been the focus of the riot not her. There was just something so mentally exhausting about having to worry all the time. It wasn’t like she could walk out of work and forget about it because Franky was in Wentworth twenty four seven. If every day had felt like a countdown to the brunette’s freedom before then it was going to feel tortuously slow now.

“I…” Bridget stumbled over her response. “I’ll be okay when you are finally out of this place.”

She dared a glance at the inmate. The brunette had dropped her earlier pretence of being in a cheerful mood. Now she just looked thoughtful. They held each other’s gaze and Bridget felt the inmates little finger hook her own between the bars.

They stood like that for several seconds but then shuffling could be heard along the corridor. Bridget unhooked her finger and stepped back away from the bars just in time to look unsuspicious when Linda Miles reappeared from around the corner.

“I better go” Bridget sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t give the younger woman a chance to respond despite the fact she could see a question forming in the inmates eyes. Tomorrow was Saturday and therefore Bridget should be off work. She’d be dammed if she sat at home all day though. Vera was sure to sanction some overtime given how thin on the ground they were.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_She dared a glance at the inmate. The brunette had dropped her earlier pretence of being in a cheerful mood. Now she just looked thoughtful. They held each other’s gaze and Bridget felt the inmates little finger hook her own between the bars._

_They stood like that for several seconds but then shuffling could be heard along the corridor. Bridget unhooked her finger and stepped back away from the bars just in time to look unsuspicious when Linda Miles reappeared from around the corner._

_“I better go” Bridget sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”_

_She didn’t give the younger woman a chance to respond despite the fact she could see a question forming in the inmates eyes. Tomorrow was Saturday and therefore Bridget should be off work. She’d be dam_ _n_ _ed if she sat at home all day though. Vera was sure to sanction some overtime given how thin on the ground they were._

**_Franky POV_ **

 

It was nearly time for breakfast but Franky was still lying in bed, reluctant to get up quite yet and face the day. It had taken Franky a long time to get to sleep the night after the riot. It had been a mixture of two things. Firstly, the earlier adrenaline rush had left her with lots of nervous energy. She had found it impossible to keep her legs still and therefore she couldn’t settle enough to sleep until exhaustion took over. Secondly, her mind had spent hours replaying her interactions with Bridget Westfall. The store cupboard played a major role in those thoughts but it had been the psychologists visit to the unit afterwards that had stuck in the inmates mind the most.

Bridget usually seemed so super cool about everything. Even when Franky had witnessed Miss Bennett frog march her out of the prison before the inmate’s parole hearing Bridget had remained unflustered. If it wasn’t for the fact she was lugging a box of her belongings around the psychologist could have been out for a stroll with the then Deputy Governor.

Bridget hadn’t been composed when she came to H1 the afternoon before. The blonde had looked thoroughly shaken by the whole experience and Franky didn’t like that. Sure she liked the fact that Bridget cared about her so much. She didn’t like the fact that caring so much was making the other woman hurt. Had Bridget not been thinking straight when she’d said she would see her today? It was the weekend so Bridget should be off. Would the older woman really come in on a Saturday just to make sure Franky was safe? No one had ever done anything like that for her before.

There was a double knock on the door. Franky presumed it was Liz or someone coming to check if she was up. The older inmate was often known to check on them if they were not up and about at the normal time. Mother hen instincts.

“Yeah come in” Franky called out, sitting up against the cushions of the bed but not bothering to climb out of it.

The door swung open to reveal Vera Bennett not one of the women from Franky’s unit. One of the new male guards stood behind her and the relatively new man shuffled uncomfortably when he saw she was still in bed.

“Governor!” Franky exclaimed. “You were not the wakeup call I was expecting.”

The inmate wouldn’t have been so quick to call the visitor in if she had realised. She’d have got up first and put some daks and a hoodie on over the boxers and vest top she slept in. The acting Governor seemed to notice the discomfort of both Franky and the male guard and cleared her throat.

“Just wait by the entrance to the unit please” Vera Bennett instructed the guard.

The man looked relieved to be removed from the situation and strode away from the entrance to Franky’s cell. The acting Governor remained stood rigid in the doorway, arms tucked behind her back. Franky hoped she wasn’t there to ask her to go into protection again. Regardless of what had happened the day before Franky didn’t want to spend her last two weeks in the isolation wing. If Governor Bennett directly asked her she would have to say yes for Bridget’s sake.

The acting Governor remained rigid in the doorway so in the end it was the inmate who broke the awkward silence.

“What do I own the pleasure of such an early visit…and on a Saturday no less?” Franky enquired.

Miss Bennett took a step in to the room so she was now stood at the end of the inmate’s bed. Now the acting Governor was stood in the morning light pouring in from the window Franky could see that the older woman looked exhausted. There were bags under her eyes even though the acting Governor had tried to hide them with concealer.

 “You were not the only one who slept at Wentworth last night” Miss Bennett responded.

“I’d hope not” Franky quipped. “The break out of a couple of hundred women would not look good on your résumé.”

The acting Governor rolled her eyes in response but there was a small smile playing across her face. Franky inwardly cringed at her own response though. Her default setting when dealing with anything was to resort to humour no matter how inappropriate. In this instance it wasn’t the wisest of ideas. Miss Bennett had gone out of her way to ensure Franky was cleared by the police and put back up for parole. On top of that the acting Governor was also friendly with Bridget now and if Franky wanted to be with the psychologist on the outside they would need Miss Bennett to turn a blind eye. Acting like a complete fucking idiot wasn’t going to endear her.

“I’m sorry” the inmate apologised. “What can I help you with Governor?”

 “Actually I am here to help you” Miss Bennett replied.

The answer caught Franky off guard but she was even more surprised when the acting Governor shuffled forward and sat on the edge of her bed. The inmate drew her legs up to give the older woman some more space. She really had no idea what was going on but she was now very curious to hear what the acting Governor had to say.

“I spent a huge chunk of my evening hounding the board and your parole officer” Miss Bennett began to explain.

“As far as I am concerned you should be on parole already. Everything is already set up for you to be on parole on the outside. So I have put in an application to bring the date forward to Wednesday morning this coming week. That should give them enough time to file the correct paperwork on Monday and Tuesday.”

The inmate was caught between wanting to jump out of bed and hug the other woman and being extremely confused about what was going on. After having dealt with a riot the day before in which some of the inmates had succeeded in tripping the electricity, Franky thought she’d be miles down on the priority list despite being target number one for the dickheads that had ganged together. Sure she understood why the dealers hated her but weren’t the red right hand meant to be all about women’s rights, feminism and fucking girl power?

“Why would you…?” Franky began to ask after the news sunk in.

“You are being targeted at Wentworth and whilst you are here the burden of care and therefore the responsibility falls upon me” the acting Governor cut in with a matter of fact tone.

That roughly translated as Miss Bennett saying ‘your death would ruin my chances of becoming Governor permanently’. It certainly was a reason to have rid of her as soon as possible but the older woman could have achieved that by forcing her into protection. It wasn’t good practice to do so but there was precedent enough for the acting Governor to have pushed it through. It would have been far easier to organise and push for than the earlier parole date.

Franky wasn’t convinced the acting Governor was telling her the whole truth but she couldn’t care less as long as it meant getting out of the shithole in four days. Her doubt must have been evident because Miss Bennett’s expression softened from the very business-like impression she’d been pushing across since starting to discuss the parole.

“People believe in you Franky” the acting Governor added. “You have the potential to go and live a constructive and happy life.”

As well behaved as Franky had attempted to be in recent months she was sure Miss Bennett wasn’t referring to the guards or even herself. There was only one person she could mean as Franky doubted the acting Governor would care for the opinions of other inmates like Bea or Liz. Bridget. Miss Bennett was doing this for her friend.  Obviously the acting Governor had been concerned about how quiet the events of yesterday had left Bridget too.

“You’re not really doing this for me are you?” Franky clarified quietly. She was trying to make sure no one could overhear through the walls or the open door to her cell.

Miss Bennett smiled and shook her head.

“No” the older woman admitted.

That seemed to draw the conversation to a close as the acting Governor arose to her feet again. Franky was still reeling (in a good way) from the news but before the other woman completely escaped her cell the inmate realised she should really show some gratitude. It didn’t matter one iota to her that Miss Bennett wasn’t doing it for her. In fact it was quite thrilling for it to be for Bridget especially as Franky had spent most of the night worrying about the blonde.

“Thank you” she called out to the acting Governor.

Miss Bennett halted in the doorway and turned back towards her. The inmate had obviously taken her by surprise, something which was always quite satisfying on its own. The acting Governor smiled again despite the surprise her eyes still held and nodded in acknowledgement. As soon as Miss Bennett was out of the cell, closing the door behind her, Franky leapt to her feet. Suddenly she felt like she had a reason to get up again and plenty of motivation to get to breakfast on time.

As she excited her own cell the rest of H1 seemed deserted so she presumed they had gone ahead of her. However as she reached the entrance to the unit she discovered one member was stood waiting for her. It was Bea Smith, leaning casually against the wall with a humungous smirk on her face.

“What?” Franky asked as she approached the red head.

“I’m pleased for you that's all” Bea responded.

The top dog’s smirk just seemed to widen further. Obviously the other woman had been in her cell next door with a glass to the wall. Franky would have been pissed if it was anyone else but Bea already seemed clued in about her and Bridget. The red head had never tried to use it against her. From the silly grin on Bea’s face she seemed to deeply approve. It made Franky feel about twelve again, blushing over a teenage crush.

“You been earwigging Red?” she inquired good naturedly.

The only answer she received was another smirk.

 

 lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

**_Bridget POV_ **

 

Bridget had felt utterly exhausted as she drove into work that morning even though she’d allowed herself an hour long sleep in. Technically she was logging overtime so she didn’t have to be in at her normal hour. In fact she didn’t need to be in work at all but she’d never have been able to settle at home knowing Franky was at risk. It had been hard enough to sleep the previous night because of the riot. Even a bottle of wine that she’d downed with the Chinese takeaway she had picked up after work didn’t take the edge off. Instead she had ‘watched’ an endless stream of nature documentaries about the world’s most extreme environments that she had paid little attention too. Then she had gazed at her book until the small hours of the morning; only managing to read nine chapters in three hours due to her skittering concentration span.

It had meant that with the sleep in she had only managed five hours of sleep. It wasn’t a tremendously low amount but she had been left physically and mentally exhausted from the events of yesterday. She probably could have done with twelve hours rest if only it had been forthcoming. Instead at nearly 11.30 in the morning she was sitting at her desk, typing up reports.

Fletch had been the only one of the senior officers she had seen on arrival and he had been surprised to see her on a weekend. He had accepted her excuse that she was ‘there in case anyone needed to speak to her after the riot’ without any fuss. He had even agreed to spread the message around that she was running an open door policy today for all inmate’s caught up in the riot. Bridget hoped to see Franky at some point although she knew it wouldn’t be this morning as the brunette was on the rota for work duty.

She had already had three of the women in her office already this morning. Inmates tended to fall into three categories. Ones that avoid speaking to her like the plague even when sat in front of her, those that would tell you a little if put in front of you…and those that were glad to have someone to talk at who was paid to sit and listen, unable to escape them for a whole hour session. The three inmates this morning had been the third category and Bridget was relieved that due to the open house nature of the sessions they were limited to half an hour. Although in fairness one of the women had a fear of the dark due to childhood trauma so it was no surprise she had needed therapy after a riot that had taken place in total darkness.

There was a knock on the office door. Bridget knew it wouldn’t be Franky but she couldn’t help but hope as she called out for them to enter. The door opened slightly and acting Deputy Governor Fletcher stuck his head through the gap.

“Another inmate to see you Miss Westfall” he said politely.

Bridget nodded her head and rose to her feet, making sure she closed the case files over as she stood. The door opened wider and the psychologist was surprised when Jenkins walked in to her office. Boomer, as she liked to be known, was the first type of inmate. Getting her to talk or even attend a session was like trying to bleed a stone. She’d had a little success in group sessions but the brunette was prone to seizing up as soon as the other inmates made remarks about her comments.

“G'day Boomer” the psychologist greeted as the inmate walked in to the office and wearily looked around it. The door closed behind her leaving the two of them alone. 

 Bridget took her normal seat and gestured towards the other one but the tall woman remained standing. Bridget wondered why, given the fact the inmate looked so uncomfortable, that she had come at all. The blonde remained patient though and merely smiled at the other woman.

“Would you like some water Boomer?” Bridget offered. “Or I could probably get a guard to fetch us some coffee?”

It wasn’t really normal procedure to give inmates hot drinks during therapy sessions, especially not ones prone to be violent. However, Bridget trusted that Boomer wouldn’t act in a threatening manner towards her and it would extend a certain amount of good will and trust between them.

“Na no I’m only here to give you Franky’s message” Boomer hurriedly explained.

Bridget felt her heart rate quicken at the inmates very name; she really did have it bad. The blonde took a deep breath and tried not to sound overly desperate as she spoke although her eagerness had probably been written all over her face.

“Franky sent you?” she asked quite casually.

“Yeah…well no” Boomer stuttered. “Franky asked Bea to come tell ya but they wouldn’t bring Bea ‘cos she was slotted during the riot. So Bea asked me to come tell ya ‘cos I was in the kitchen when it all went down and had to bash a few bit…”

The inmate cut off before actually finishing the swearword. Bridget had gleamed one thing from the brunette’s ramblings; Franky and Bea’s alliance and forming friendship from before the fire was still strong. That could only be positive for Franky as people would see her as being under Bea’s protection. The younger inmate would hate that notion but as far as the psychologist was concerned it was tough luck. Apart from that though Bridget had no idea what information Boomer was actually meant to be carrying to her. 

“And what was the message?” the blonde pressed.

“Oh yeah right!” Boomer blushed. “The Governor told Franky this morning that she had got her release date moved to next week on Wednesday. “

The psychologist couldn’t control the smile that broke out across her face at the surprising yet wonderful news. Five days. Franky only had to hold on for five days and then she could walk out the prison gate and be free of Wentworth Correctional Facility.

“That is very good news” Bridget grinned.

The blonde had little doubt in her mind that Vera had pulled some serious strings to get the early release. She also had little doubt that the acting Governor had done so because she had witnessed how worried Bridget had been after the riot.

The psychologist had almost forgotten about Boomer’s presence, so lost had she become in her own thoughts. She was reminded of the inmate’s presence though when the tall brunette moved across her line of vision and sat unceremoniously in the other chair.

“Are you and Franky together then?” Boomer asked once she was seated.

The inmate surprised Bridget by getting straight to the point like that and for a few seconds she floundered. Boomer was Franky’s friend and the blonde didn’t want to lie to her but she also didn’t want to risk her own position by admitting anything. The inmate had a big heart and wasn’t a bad person…she just had an anger management issue or ten. On the other hand she wasn’t always the brightest and it wasn’t inconceivable that she’d accidently trip up and let their secret slip.

“I won’t tell no one...no worries!” Boomer promised, obviously sensing her unease. “I think its fucking awesome but I know it’s gotta stay hush hush even after she’s left.”

Bridget nodded, acknowledging what Boomer was saying without verbally confirming it. It seemed to satisfy the inmate though and she smiled broadly in response. The psychologist suspected the smile largely due to the fact that she now felt trusted enough to be part of their big secret rather than joy at the confirmation. After all, Boomer was losing Franky to a degree.  Bridget was sure that Franky would visit the other inmate but it wasn’t the same as seeing her every day.  Women in prison formed tight knit bonds because of the need to watch each other’s back all the time. It was hard when those bonds had to be broken.

“It’s going to be hard for you to say goodbye?” Bridget stated. Leaving it open ended in the hope that she might be able to get the inmate talking for once.

“Yeah” Boomer admitted.

The inmate looked at her cautiously so Bridget smiled and leant back in her chair. She hoped that if she took a comfortable and casual pose the brunette may relax too. Apparently it worked because Boomer shuffled forward in her seat and although she looked cautious still her body language relaxed slightly.

“Can we have that coffee?” the inmate asked.

Bridget was on her feet in a flash and ringing for a guard to bring her two real coffees.

 

**************

 

The clock ticked four in the afternoon and Bridget smiled to herself. Franky was due to finish work duty now and she gave it ten minutes maximum before the inmate appeared at her door with one of the guards.

It had been a quiet afternoon with only a couple of more visits from the women. The rest of the time she was catching up with paperwork she should have been completing the day before but the riot had put pay to that. She had also had to update Sue Jenkins file after what had been a successful thirty minutes just before lunch.

Not that much of the content had been relevant for a psychologists stand point. They had mainly stuck to the topic of Franky, their exploits together and how much Boomer would miss her despite their recent falling out. However, it had opened up a dialogue between the two of them and Bridget hoped Boomer would now consider coming to see her if she needed to get something of her chest. That was serious progress for a woman who had previously literally ran away when Bridget had suggested coming to chat with her one on one.

There was a knock on the door. Bridget glanced at the clock again to find it was four minutes past four. Franky was keen.

“Come in” Bridget called out.

The door swung open and Vera walked in to the office. As grateful as she was to the acting Governor the psychologist was slightly disappointed that it was her. That feeling was replaced very quickly when Franky Doyle strolled in behind her.

“Have you got time for one more?” Vera smirked. “Doyle has been on work duty all day but she had a very traumatic time yesterday and needs to see her psychologist urgently…apparently.”

Franky rolled her eyes from behind the acting Governor making Bridget struggle to repress a smirk herself. As much as Vera knew something was going on and allowed it within reason Bridget tried hard not to admit or give too much away so her friend could still maintain plausible deniability. Not that Bridget planned on being caught.

“Well if it’s urgent…” Bridget replied casually. The acting Governor turned back towards the door.

“Twenty minutes” Vera directed at the inmate as she walked past her. “Then Mr Jackson will be back for you.”

Then Vera was gone, the door swinging shut behind her. Franky was practically beaming with joy as she waited in the middle of the office. Bridget hadn’t moved from behind her desk whilst Vera was there but she rose steadily now and made her way around the office furniture. She stopped just in front of the brunette.

“Bea said that Boomer came and told you the good news” Franky chuckled.

“She did” Bridget replied.

The psychologist allowed herself to smile freely now that they were alone. Her own joy seemed to elate the inmate further and Franky reached out and clasped their hands together. They were no longer in the privacy of a restricted entry stock cupboard but Bridget allowed the contact regardless. The shutters were down and no one was likely to march in without knocking.

Bridget tenderly traced the brunettes thumb with her own and their eyes locked together. She felt a tug at her hand and for a brief second thought Franky was going to pull her forward and kiss her. Instead the brunette laughed and raised their hands in the air, spinning Bridget under their arms like they were dancing. It was ridiculous considering there was no music but Franky looked so happy that Bridget couldn’t bring herself to protest.

The inmate spun her back again before drawing them closer together, keeping one hand clasped with the psychologists and wrapping her other around Bridget’s waist. Bridget placed her free hand on Franky’s shoulder and let the brunette sway them slowly to whatever song was in her head.

“I like dancing” the inmate spoke up. “I don’t mean clubbing. I like dancing to music to unwind or if I am in a really good mood.”

Bridget smiled at the little tit-bit of information. The blonde liked listening to music when unwinding or whatever but having lived alone for years she’d had no one to dance with. She could tell from this small experience to a silent melody that she’d enjoy dancing with Franky.

The brunette stopped swaying but instead of moving away she pressed closer forward. She released Bridget’s hand and wrapped the second arm around the blonde’s waist as well so they were hugging. Bridget responded straight away, holding Franky close to her and burying her nose against the brunette’s neck.

“You okay baby?” she asked.

The use of a pet name caught Bridget by surprise and she cringed. She hadn’t called anyone ‘baby’ in years and was half expecting Franky to laugh at her. Instead the brunette smiled against her shoulder and held her tighter.

“Mhmmm” Franky replied. “Best I’ve felt for a long time.”

They stayed like that until Mr Jackson knocked fifteen minutes later.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_The brunette stopped swaying but instead of moving away she pressed closer forward. She released Bridget’s hand and wrapped her second arm around the blonde’s waist as well so they were hugging. Bridget responded straight away, holding Franky close to her and burying her nose against the brunette’s neck._

_“You okay baby?” she asked._

_The use of a pet name caught Bridget by surprise and she cringed. She hadn’t called anyone ‘baby’ in years and was half expecting Franky to laugh at her. Instead the brunette smiled against her shoulder and held her tighter._

_“Mhmmm” Franky replied. “Best I’ve felt for a long time.”_

_They stayed like that until Mr Jackson knocked fifteen minutes later._

**_Franky POV_ **

 

“Morning Franky” the parole officer greeted as she entered the isolation room.

Franky had been sat waiting for nearly ten minutes with Miss Miles prowling around outside. She had met with Wendy Fairbank, her brisk but pleasant enough parole officer, before her original release date. Wendy was short and skinny with mouse brown hair. Despite her diminutive size she didn’t appear to be someone you’d want to double cross. Franky quite liked that about the parole officer as she needed someone who would keep her on her toes.

“Miss Fairbank” Franky greeted in return.

The woman shook her head as she took the seat across from the prisoner, placing her file and an A4 brown envelope down in front of her.

“It’s Wendy” the older woman pointed out, “I’m not one of your prison officers.”

Franky smiled and nodded. The parole officer had said as much last time they met but it was an ingrained habit after years of incarceration in Wentworth. Despite the fact the other woman had not corrected her posture Franky sat up straighter in her seat. There could be no negative feedback now when she was so close to release.

“I’ll keep the spiel to a minimum as you’ve heard it all before but as much as I am here to keep a watchful eye on you, I am also here to help you adjust back into the outside world in any way I can.”

Franky had heard it all before. She had gotten this far last time too before the fire had delayed her first parole date. Still she tried to appear attentive, her eyes straying to the envelope between them. It contained the details of her new home. Once it was in her hands it would all feel more real. Not half as real as walking out the gates would undoubtedly feel.

“Now I managed to keep the same address held for you so the details of your parole haven’t changed” Wendy continued. I have all the information you need in this envelope including the time of our first meeting at your flat on Thursday afternoon. The rest of your belongings and essentials will be waiting for you on your release. If there are any issues with the flat or the parole arrangements then we will address them on Thursday. Do you have someone to pick you up on Wednesday?”

The inmate glanced up from the envelope to the parole officer. She hadn’t given it much thought as she presumed she would be going home with Bridget. However Bridget would be working until at least five in the afternoon. She could hardly hang around outside Wentworth until the psychologist finished or it would raise some serious questions with the guards. The two of them would have to be subtle or Bridget risked real trouble.

“I think that depends on what time I get paroled” the brunette admitted.

“It’s likely to be between midday and one” Wendy replied. “It’s never a definite science I’m afraid as it depends who is free to process you.”

Franky suspected that most of the guards would be happy to see the back of her despite the new leaf she had turned over recently. A midday release it was. She’d have to make her own way to the flat or make a meeting point with Bridget. She was presuming that Bridget would want to meet her that evening especially after the blonde admitting that she had arrived to pick her up the first time.

“If it’s that early in the day then I will have to get the bus” Franky explained.                

Wendy smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. The older woman shifted in her seat so she was leaning forward on her elbows.

“Listen Franky I know parole is a new start but that doesn’t mean you don’t require a support network” the diminutive woman warned. “I know you are not in contact with your family but you do have friends who you can call upon right?”

It was tempting to point out that any of her old friends would be totally unsuitable in the role of ‘support network’. They were either petty criminals, drug dealers, drug addicts or had serious anger management issues. Franky had no intention of getting in contact with any of them. If she needed someone to talk to about something other than Bridget she’d prefer to talk to Boomer, Liz or even Bea over the phone than any of her old crew. Anyway, with a psychologist for a girlfriend, she’d have the ‘support’ thing well covered.

“I have people I can talk to if things get on top of me” she assured the parole officer. “It was just too late notice for my friend to get the day off work.”

“Good” Wendy replied instantly.

Franky was sure the parole officer was just relieved to hear that she had a friend who was responsible enough to hold down a job. Unfortunately Franky would never be able to tell Wendy just who that friend was. She hoped the other woman never pried too much. Hopefully if Franky gave her no reason to worry then Wendy would have no reason to ask.

 

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After the parole meeting Miss Miles marched her back to H Block in her usual brisk manner and abandoned her as soon as they reached the main corridor. It wouldn’t normally bother Franky, even with other women out to get her, but she had made a promise to Bridget. She had promised she would stay with someone from her wing at all times so she always had back up.

It had been surprisingly easy to do for the rest of Saturday and Sunday. Bea had noticed that she was sticking close to either her or Boomer and Franky had come straight out and told the other inmate why. Bea already had her and Bridget well sussed out and had kept it to herself so Franky had felt she could rely on Bea’s digression. The top dog had reacted by telling everyone that she wanted someone with Franky at all times, insisting in front of them that Franky not argue with her because it was for her own good. Making it seem like a demand from the top dog and not from Franky herself had saved the brunette some face in front of her friends and for that she was grateful.

As the inmate rounded the corner on to the main corridor she found herself in a crowd of teal wearing women, all waiting in line for the phones. It unnerved her for a second until she made out a mop of red hair leaning on the opposite wall. Bea Smith was ‘patrolling’ the phone line, likely as an excuse to wait for her. Her presence seemed to be unnerving the new guard who was supervising the line as much as it was the other women. When the red head had promised she would get her safely to parole and the arms of Bridget Westfall she had apparently really taken it to heart.

“Hey how was the parole meeting?” Bea asked as the brunette reached her.

“Good thanks” Franky replied, unable to prevent a huge grin from forming.

The top dog glanced down at the precious envelope Franky was holding and wagged an eyebrow at her.

“So where is your apartment then?” the red head asked, dropping her voice lower so the other women couldn’t hear her.

Franky was tempted to tell her to mind her own business out of habit but they had moved past any animosity now. In truth Franky intended to give Bea her address so the red head could write to her. She didn’t know if Bea would or not but she wanted to give her the option. She knew Liz and Boomer would write to her. Even though she had made up ground with Doreen they were unlikely to keep in touch.

“It’s in Fitzroy” she responded.

“The fuck?!” Bea exclaimed a little loudly.

Franky wasn’t all that surprised that Bea was surprised. Fitzroy was nice suburban area, not the normal city hovels most family and friend-less ex-convicts were paroled out in to. The red head would probably presume it was Bridget’s influence but in truth it had nothing to do with the blonde.

 “I have a bit of money set aside from the TV show” Franky explained, “believe it or not I still got appearance money despite fucking up the chef.”

The figure was around fifty thousand Australian dollars. She had used some of it over the years whilst in Wentworth but a huge chunk of it was still sat in her bank account. It had made her parole officer’s job of arranging an affordable living space much easier. The truth was that unless she found herself some decent employment it would only last around eighteen months of a sensible lifestyle.

“I bet you picked up a bonus for boosting the ratings” Bea quipped.

Franky shrugged. No doubt her actions had helped the show immeasurably but she’d never reaped any rewards. It wasn’t like she could milk the story whilst incarcerated. Nor, despite all her bravado at the time, would she have wanted to.

“C’mon” Bea motioned in the direction of the unit. “I’ve stood glaring at this lot long enough for one day.”

The two of them began to walk back towards the unit in a comfortable silence. Just as they reached the end of the corridor Bridget appeared from around the corner, head down and swaggering, nearly walking straight in to Bea. All three of them came to an abrupt stop and Bridget’s eyes lit up when she realised which inmates she had nearly power walked through.

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**_Bridget POV_ **

 

In the end Bridget hadn’t done overtime on the Sunday. Franky had been adamant she have a day off, worried she was exhausting herself. It was the only thing they had spoken about whilst wrapped around each other in Bridget’s office. As reluctant as the blonde had been there was no denying she was teetering on the edge of exhaustion. Franky had tried to ease her mind by promising she would stay in the company of one of Boomer, Bea or Maxine at all times.

She had struggled to sleep on Saturday night but then slept in until midday on Sunday. It had been years since she’d slept in so late and she felt all the better for it. It had even afforded her the chance to catch up with the housework that she had been shunning for the last week. In all honesty that had been prompted by thoughts of Franky’s fast approaching release date. The brunette would have to live at the flat found for her by the probation service or at least appear to, but Bridget expected them to spend plenty of time at her home. She knew she may be letting her heart run away with her. There was nothing to say that they would work in the real world, outside the constraints of Wentworth.

Monday morning had come around quickly…and gone quickly. It was nearly lunch time by the time Bridget had emerged from the office after three back to back therapy sessions. She had an intake after lunch that she was yet to pick up the paperwork for which meant lunch was going to have to be eaten at her desk, mulling over the documents.

First Bridget had to collect the paperwork which was waiting for her at the guard’s office on H block. Without paying too much attention to her surroundings she made her way to the office, nearly colliding with one of the inmates as she turned on to the main corridor.

Her head shot up instantly; weary of whom she was inches away from. Relief flooded her system when she realised the inmate in question was just Bea Smith. The top dog wasn’t alone.

“Franky…Bea” Bridget greeted a little too eagerly; “G’day.”

Both women had come to a stop in front of her. Franky broke out into a broad smile at the sight of her, a reaction that made Bridget’s heart rate soar.

“Miss Westfall” Bea politely returned the greeting.

Bridget, having seen Vera on her way in to work in the morning, was well aware that Franky had seen her parole officer this morning. If she didn’t ask her about it now it was likely she would have to wait until their final session tomorrow afternoon. The wait for news was more than she could stand even if she knew a lot of the details already from when Franky was originally meant to be released.

“Any idea what time you get out on Wednesday?” she asked the brunette inmate quietly.

“It’s likely to be late morning or early afternoon” Franky replied. It was the answer Bridget didn’t want to hear but one she expected none the less.

Bridget leant her shoulder against the wall so that Franky’s body was blocking their conversation from the women further down the corridor. Bea remained stood by them, appearing to be part of the conversation still, but shifted to Bridget’s right so she could see down both corridors.

Bridget wasn’t sure if the top dog was looking out for threats or was checking the coast was clear for her and Franky to talk. Bea had dropped hints in isolation that she had guessed of Bridget and Franky’s fondness for the other but if Bea was doing the latter then it suggested she definitely knew they had something to hide. It was hard picturing Franky confiding in someone who was a former nemesis even if they had appeared to put all that behind them. Bea seemed to pick up on her unease.

“Don’t mind me” the top dog assured her. “I’m really blocked up today Miss Westfall…can’t hear a bloody thing.”

Bridget knew she shouldn’t say anything in front of an inmate even if they were aware of the situation. If she never confirmed it then should Bea ever say anything to a guard Bridget could claim it had all been in Franky’s head. The problem was that the brunette inmate was looking at her earnestly and Bridget really did have every confidence in Bea Smith’s discretion.

 “I’m in work until five” the psychologist gave in and finally replied.

“So meet me later” Franky instantly replied.

Franky leant in a little bit closer; close enough for Bridget to smell the fruity shower gel she had used that morning. The blonde took a weary glance around. Bea, although appearing to outsiders as part of the conversation, was paying little attention to them. No one else was anywhere near being in earshot.  

 “Where?” she asked the brunette inmate.

She still couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with another person present but she had long since lost her mind when dealing with Franky. The inmate had totally overridden all her senses.

“Wherever you like” Franky replied smoothly.

Bridget gave it a little thought. Franky’s new flat was actually quite near Bridget’s home. The address was in Fitzroy and Bridget lived in North Fitzroy, about a fifteen minute drive away. That meant that one of the local shopping districts was pretty much the midway point between the two.

“There is a quaint little coffee and wine bar at the end of Queens Parade, it’s not too far from your parole address” she suggested.

Franky nodded, obviously confident she knew where Queen’s Parade was. Then there was a slow dawning on her face which morphed into her customary cheeky smile.

“How do you know my parole address?!” the inmate exclaimed.

It gave the psychologist a small amount of satisfaction to see Franky caught off-guard especially when it was usually Franky disarming her. Unfortunately she didn’t have time to give her much of an answer because Bea was gesturing down the corridor with her head. A quick glance to her left informed her that Will Jackson was heading in their direction. It was time for the blonde to move on.

“I have my sources” Bridget teased.         

She stepped around the brunette, allowing their shoulders to brush, and swaggered away. She knew the effect it would have on the inmate. Even with her back turned she could feel Franky’s eyes on her.

“She’s going to keep you on your toes,” Bea quipped to the brunette as Bridget drifted out of earshot of the two inmates.

A good natured “fuck off” in response from Franky was the last thing she heard before entering the guard room.

Bridget suspected they would both keep the other on their toes. She wouldn’t have it any other way.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_She stepped around the brunette, allowing their shoulders to brush, and swaggered away. She knew the effect it would have on the inmate. Even with her back turned she could feel Franky’s eyes on her._

_“She’s going to keep you on your toes,” Bea quipped to the brunette as Bridget drifted out of earshot of the two inmates._

_A good natured “fuck off” in response from Franky was the last thing she heard before entering the guard room._

_Bridget suspected they would both keep the other on their toes. She wouldn’t have it any other way._

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**_Bridget POV_ **

 

Bridget's day had been a relatively uneventful one. She'd had a group session for H3 in the afternoon, sandwiched by some regular inmates who were making good progress. The sessions had given her something to focus her mind on which was good because in the lulls where she was trying to tackle paperwork her thoughts had been dominated by one Franky Doyle.

 

Franky was getting out on Wednesday. There was no Joan Ferguson to fuck it up this time and Bridget had faith in the likes of Bea and Boomer to see Franky safely through to her release. It was exhilarating and exciting but Bridget also knew they would be swimming in dangerous waters. If Franky's parole officer discovered they were in a relationship then Bridget's career could be well and truly fucked. They would have to try and keep it under the radar for two years; the amount of time professional standards declared a psychiatrist couldn't date a former patient for.

 

Bridget knew this risk she was about to take should terrify her but she was currently more concerned by the fact Franky would have to make her own way to her new address after being released. Bridget had originally planned to align her annual leave up with Franky's new release date but then it had been brought forward very suddenly and that idea had gone out of the window. Instead she would have ten days off to spend with the brunette in a couple of weeks time.

 

It was now the end of her shift but instead of going home she headed up to the Governor's Office. Vera had e-mailed her earlier in the afternoon and invited her for a drink and a chinese take away after work. It was the kind of distraction Bridget really needed. If she headed home now she would undoubtedly just pace around all night unable to complete the simplest tasks. She was also mindful that Vera probably needed the company too. There was a lot of pressure weighing on the other woman. The eyes of the Melbourne press were locked onto Wentworth after the fire and Joan Ferguson's arrest. In a fair world that pressure should fall on the board considering they had employed a woman with some serious psychopathic tendencies but in reality it was Vera who had presented the last three press releases.

 

Bridget reached the office, tapped on the door and entered without waiting for a response. Vera was sitting at her desk, scrawling notes on a writing pad in one of Ferguson's precious pencils. The acting Governor had obviously had a hectic day as she had slung her blazer over the back of the seat, rolled her sleeves up and unfastened her top button. She had also been running her hand through her hair and some of it had come loose from her bun.

 

“Ah Bridget...hi” Vera greeted, shoving the pad to the side as she spoke.

 

The other woman sat up straighter in her seat and pushed a leaflet across the desk towards Bridget. It was a menu for a local chinese restaurant. The blonde sat down opposite her friend and picked up the leaflet and began leafing through.

 

“Mad day?” she enquired.

 

“It's always a mad day around here” Vera chuckled in response. “Actually I was checking the rota and I wondered if you wanted to take the day off on Wednesday? You worked an extra day after the riot so I thought you could take it back.”

 

Bridget raised an eyebrow in response but didn't instantly reply. Vera had long since come to accept that there was something between her and Franky and turned a blind eye but this was practically encouraging it. When she didn't respond Vera chuckled again before expanding her reasoning.

 

“Well it's probably the only day you can take off with short notice in the next couple of weeks” the acting Governor stated. “One of your usual morning appointments is being released that day and the other is in medical with the flu. I spoke to Bea Smith about the group session in the afternoon and she assured me her block would be happy to miss a week so you could take the day off.”

 

The idea of the acting Governor plotting with the top dog to help an illegal relationship between an inmate and a staff member was almost laughable.

 

“Well if it's all organised then I would be thrilled to take the day off” Bridget admitted.

 

She had tried to keep her face straight as she spoke but she could feel herself smiling. Bridget really appreciated Vera and Bea's sentiment but she hoped that was who the secret was contained too. She was sure the other women on the block had their suspicions but that wasn't the same as actually knowing.

 

“Oh and I told Smith not to mention your day off to Doyle...she seemed to approve of the idea” Vera informed her with a large smirk.

 

The acting Governor picked up her office phone with one hand and tapped the leaflet in front of Bridget with the other. Bridget gazed down at the vast number of options in front of her. She didn't have the head space to go through them all so she went for the simplest thing she could think of.

 

“I think I'll have the chicken chow mein” she told Vera.

 

“Hi Mae its Vera Bennett from Wentworth” the acting Governor started. “Yes the usual please and a chicken chow mein...thanks.”

 

Bridget smiled at the fact the local chinese had a 'usual' order for the other woman. She knew Vera had spent a lot of evenings staying late in the office in her attempts to steer Wentworth back on course. Apparently she had ate a fair few chinese meals there in the process.

 

Vera placed the phone back down on the desk and looked across at the blonde. Bridget could tell that her friend was going to ask her something and by the other woman's thoughtful expression it seemed serious. The acting Governor drummed her nails against the top of the desk a couple of times before finally speaking.

“Bridget I need some advice” the brunette admitted. “The board have offered me the Governor's post permanently.....”

 

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**_Franky POV_ **

 

Monday afternoon came and went in a blur as her impending release made her feel like she was walking around in a daze. She had been on cleaning duty in the afternoon and had been made to blitz the dining hall. It had been awkward at first because Kim and her friends had spent the first hour glaring at her. They had finished relatively early though, leaving some blonde called Allie from Kaz Proctor's girl power group finishing the after lunch clean in the kitchen.

 

It had made the brunette weary at first because even though this particular member of Kaz's crew hadn't attacked her Franky was expecting retribution because Kaz was still slotted. However the blonde had turned out to be really quite pleasant and chatty. Perhaps a little bit too chatty as she seemed to be a bit fixated on asking questions about Bea Smith. Franky was damn sure she wasn't scoping information for Kaz and instead the blonde seemed to have it bad for Bea. Franky had always reckoned that Bea had some lady loving in her and if the young and attractive blonde fancied trying to crack that nut then good luck to her. Plus, Franky could hardly judge someone for having it bad for a pretty lady.

 

She had been desperate to see Bridget again that day but it hadn't happened; she hadn't even seen her in passing. The inmate had considered contriving a reason to visit the psychologist but had thought better of it. Just one more day and then Franky would be a free woman and would be able to pursue a relationship with the blonde.

 

The inmate had turned her energy to clearing out her cell that evening. The other women in her block were throwing her a party on her last night so Franky had decided to pack away everything but her essentials now. She was going to take very little with her so most of it would be left for the other women to pick through.

 

The brunette piled all her belongings on the bed and sorted them into three categories. The first, things she was taking with her, she placed on her pillow. It mainly consisted of her law books, study notes and some underwear. The second pile, things the others could pick through, she put in the cardboard box she had been given by the guards. The third pile, which she placed at the foot of the bed, contained some of her nice toiletries and her fleece blanket. That pile was reserved for one special inmate. As if on queue the very inmate strolled past Franky's open door.

 

“Hey Booms!” the brunette called out after her.

 

The other inmate reappeared in the doorway but didn't come any further into the room at first. Franky knew her friend would be sad to see her leave but at least the other woman now had a good, strong friendship with Maxine. She was glad Boomer would have someone so kind looking out for her.

 

“Ya packing?” Boomer observed.

 

The other inmate crept a bit further into the room and stood near the foot of Franky's bed. It was obvious that Boomer wasn't sure what to think or how to feel about seeing the room virtually bare. The bigger woman was always so easy to visually read because she wore her heart on her sleeve.

 

“I thought you might like those” Franky stated, pointing at the third pile of her belongings. “You can have a look through the box and see if there is anything else you want too.”

 

Boomer looked down at the toiletries and ran her hand across the folded fleece blanket. She smiled at the gift before turning her attention to the other two piles. Instead of routing through the box the small pile on the pillow seemed to catch her attention more.

 

“You're not taking much?” Boomer pointed out.

 

“Yeah well...I wanna put this place behind me don't I” Franky replied offhandedly.

 

She hadn't thought how the other inmate may take her statement until the words left her mouth and she saw the look on Boomer's face. Her friend looked crestfallen and like she might burst into tears at any moment.

 

“I don't mean you Booms...I'm gonna come visit you ya big softie” Franky assured her friend as she pulled her into a big bear hug. “I just mean that I don't want a constant reminder of this place you know? I don't want to smell like I did here or see the same old pictures on my wall. I need a fresh start.”

 

This didn't prevent Boomer sobbing into her shoulder but at least now there was a chance it was borne from relief that Franky wasn't totally leaving her behind. The other woman had kept her safe time and time again in Wentworth and Franky wasn't about to abandon her now even if it meant having to come back to this hell hole once a month to see her.

 

“You're gonna do great” Boomer mumbled into her shoulder before pulling out of the hug and straightening up.

 

There was a stray tear running down the bigger inmates face but she wasn't properly crying. Franky was relieved because she wasn't good with dealing with tears. She usually said the wrong fucking thing and made them cry even more. Franky wanted to help Boomer in whatever way possible but the other inmate wasn't good at accepting or seeking help and there was little that Franky herself could directly do. There was someone who could help her friend though if Boomer would only open up a bit and let them.

 

“Listen to me...I want you to try and talk to Brid...Miss Westfall okay?” Franky pleaded. “She can help you work your way towards parole too and maybe even get you onto an educational or training programme. I know you don't like fucking shrinks but she's...she's different.”

 

Boomer looked down at the floor whilst she was thinking through what Franky had said to her. She didn't seem annoyed by the idea which was progress though because once upon a time she'd have been cursing the place down at the very notion.

 

“Yeah yeah I will” the other inmate agreed.

 

Franky pulled her friend back in for another long hug.

 

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**_Bridget POV_ **

 

Bridget wasn't sure what Vera could possibly need her advice about. It seemed like a no brainer. Vera had been overlooked for Governor before but had always wanted the role. Now she was finally being given that chance. The psychologist believed that Vera deserved it and could thrive in the post.

 

“Surely that's a good thing?” Bridget asked, “It shows they are confident in what you are trying to do here?”

 

“Yes and that's good...” Vera agreed before trailing off. The brunette didn't seem very sure despite her positive response.

 

Bridget knew plenty of tricks to focus the mind and boost confidence if that was the issue but she felt like there was something else underlying the other woman's hesitancy to take the position. She suspected it had something to do with Wentworth's last Governor.

 

“But...” she pressed her friend.

 

Vera leant back in her seat and closed her eyes. She wasn't really the kind of person to open up easily and Bridget suspected she'd be a nightmare in an actual counselling session. Vera probably wouldn't enjoy the comparison but Bridget reckoned the brunette would be quite combative at first when put in that sort of situation rather like Franky. On this occasion it was Vera's own choice to open up and she was still struggling.

 

“I don't know if I really have what it takes” the acting Governor finally admitted. “You saw how easily Ferguson manipulated me Bridget. What if I make those kinds of terrible decisions again?”

 

Bridget had suspected that was the issue. It was true that Ferguson had played on Vera's weaknesses to force her into line but life was a learning curve and in this instance it had been a steep curve. The blonde doubted that the acting Governor would make the same mistake again. It wasn't as if Vera was the only person Joan Ferguson had manipulated or influenced. The former Governor had failed on all fronts in the end except with poor Jodi Spiteri.

 

“Ferguson is excellent at manipulating people so don't let that influence your decision” Bridget assured the other woman.

 

Vera nodded and smiled slightly but Bridget could see there was still something playing on the other woman's mind. The brunette didn't seem to be forthcoming with whatever else was bothering though so Bridget pressed her again.

 

“What's wrong?” the psychologist asked.

 

“She used to flirt with me” Vera blurted out; looking down at her desk in embarrassment.

 

The acting Governor spoke so quickly that it took a while for Bridget to process what she had actually said. When the blonde finally caught up she wasn't sure whether to laugh hysterically or vomit.

 

“Ferguson?!” Bridget exclaimed.

 

It wasn't that the ex Governor was ugly or anything she was just...well...psychopathic and murderous. They were not trait's that Bridget personally looked for in a partner. She knew Vera and Fletch had previously been involved and he was a bit of a bastard but there was a difference between being a prat and being fucking crackers.

 

“The thing is...I quite enjoyed it at first” the brunette admitted.

 

Bridget nearly fell of her seat in surprise but straightened herself up quickly. She had always prided herself in her observation skills but she had never noticed any sexual tension between Ferguson and Vera. Perhaps she had been too busy focussing on Franky to notice or maybe it had petered out by the time she arrived.

 

“Fuck...” Bridget exclaimed, starting to laugh as she spoke, “you fancied Ferguson.”

 

As a psychologist she shouldn't laugh but they were talking as friends and as Vera's friend she found the notion hysterical. It had crossed her mind that the other woman was probably bisexual but there was bisexual...and then there was Fergusonsexual.

 

“Were you hoping she was going to pull on those leather gloves and give you a thorough strip search?!” Bridget ribbed the brunette.

 

It was tasteless and a little bit disgusting but the psychologist always had been gifted with a filthy sense of humour. It had landed her in hot water once or twice but she had always charmed her way out of trouble.

 

“That is so wrong” Vera protested.

 

The brunette shook her head in disgust but couldn't hide the smile creeping across her face even though she was still looking down. Bridget continued to giggle like a teenager and finally Vera looked up and smiled directly at her.

 

“Shut up” the acting Governor grumbled.

  



	20. Chapter 20

**Tempus Fugit**

**Chapter 20**

 

“ _ Were you hoping she was going to pull on those leather gloves and give you a thorough strip search?!” Bridget ribbed the brunette. _

_ It was tasteless and a little bit disgusting but the psychologist always had been gifted with a filthy sense of humour. It had landed her in hot water once or twice but she had always charmed her way out of trouble. _

“ _ That is so wrong” Vera protested. _

_ The brunette shook her head in disgust but couldn't hide the smile creeping across her face even though she was still looking down. Bridget continued to giggle like a teenager and finally Vera looked up and smiled directly at her. _

“ _ Shut up” the acting Governor grumbled. _

 

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_**Bridget POV** _

 

Bridget’s first appointment of the morning had involved a trip to the isolation wing. Thirty minutes with Kaz Proctor hadn’t appealed to her especially considering the Red Hand leader and her cronies had beat Franky up. Bridget also had a distaste for women whose idea of feminism was based on violence towards men. It sat even worse with her that Proctor had turned that violence on a woman purely for the purpose of gaining power and status.

 

The appointment had gone surprisingly well though and Proctor had openly admitted that she had been unfair to target Franky Doyle when the person she was angry with was Bea Smith. The inmate had calmly explained that she was sure Bea Smith had been the person who had sold her out to the authorities. Bridget had not pressed any deeper into Proctor’s psyche as she sensed any attempt to do so would make the Red Hand leader shut down. The conversation did convince the psychologist that Proctor was safe to release back into the wings by the end of the week. She didn’t doubt that there would be trouble between Proctor and Smith at some point but there was no mental health justification to keep Kaz proctor isolated.

 

Bridget was sat at her desk writing up the paperwork from the appointment when there was a firm knock at her door. She glanced up at the clock on her wall. Franky was due for her final appointment before release in ten minutes time but it would be unusual for a guard to bring an inmate early for an appointment.

 

“ C’min” she called out.

 

The door creaked open and Bridget placed her pen down and shut over the folder to cover the report she was writing. Will popped his head through the partially opened door and smiled at her apologetically.

 

“ Sorry to disturb you but I was wondering if I was okay to leave Doyle with you for an extra ten minutes?” he asked. “I was the only one free to bring her but I have a meeting with the Governor and Fletch in five minutes.”

 

Bridget casually leant back in her chair and tried to keep a detached aura. Internally she was cheering at the fortuity of the situation.

 

“ No that’s fine” she replied casually.

 

The male officer threw a really grateful look in her direction before ducking back out of the doorway. Franky appeared in his place and confidently strode into the office with her hands tucked into the front pocket of her hooded top. She halted in the middle of the room and gazed at the psychologist, mirth clear in her eyes. Bridget mused suddenly that tomorrow would be the first time she would see the brunette wearing ordinary clothes and not the teal or white vest top of Wentworth Correctional Institution. The sound of the door shutting behind Franky brought the older woman back to the present.

 

“ I don’t know Gidge…” the inmate smirked, “…sure you can keep me entertained for a whole forty minutes?”

 

The blonde pushed her chair back and climbed to her feet. She began to slowly and deliberately make her way around the desk and towards the inmate. If Franky wanted to flirt and challenge her then Bridget was in the right kind of upbeat mood to play a little. When released the younger woman was soon going to realise that Bridget could flirt for her country if they ever made it an Olympic sport.

“ Positive” Bridget replied confidently as she halted face to face with the inmate.

 

Franky quirked an eyebrow in an initial response but said nothing until Bridget flung her arms over the brunette's shoulders and clasped both hands together behind her neck. She shouldn't be doing it, Bridget was well aware of that. There was only one day left until they could be holding each other risk free. Franky Doyle was a hard woman to resist though and Bridget had used up all her energy over the past few weeks...and well months really...fighting it.

 

“ Mmmm you’re very sure of yourself” Franky flirted back; nuzzling her cheek into the soft material of the white blouse Bridget was wearing.

 

It was a tender action for someone who had spent so long shying away in distrust from the affection of others. It made Bridget's heart beat that little bit faster in her chest and a deep ache settled in the pit of her stomach.

 

When Franky turned her cheek back to face her, Bridget leant in and captured her lips in a sweet and slow open mouthed kiss. The inmate seemed happy to fall into the easy rhythm and settled her hands on the psychologists hips, drawing them even closer together.

 

“ Careful” Franky warned after they broke for air. “It would be unfortunate to get caught out on my very last day.”

 

As the younger woman spoke she slid one hand from Bridget's hip, cupping a bum cheek and giving it a firm squeeze. The psychologist giggled in response and swatted the inmates shoulder.

 

“ That’s not going to motivate me to behave” Bridget warned.

 

Franky smiled in her trade mark cocky way but released her grasp of the blonde and took a small step back. Bridget couldn't resist unclasping her hands to cup the inmate's face, planting a firm but swift kiss on Franky's lips again before stepping back completely. The brunette threw her head back and laughed before moving over to her normal seat and ungainly plonking herself down so she was slumped with her legs open.

 

“ How are you feeling?” Bridget asked as she took her own seat in a more dignified fashion.

 

“ Hopeful…apprehensive…excited…terrified” Franky openly admitted.

 

Despite the now serious nature of their conversation the brunette's eyes still roamed down Bridget's form as she spoke. The psychologist blouse was showing just enough cleavage to be acceptable at work and her pencil skirt left plenty of crossed legs on show. It was an outfit chosen for Franky to admire in and Bridget was certainly enjoying the attention.

 

“ Right now I’m also a little turned on but I suspect that’s due to other stimuli” the inmate quipped.

Bridget smiled at the innuendo but let it pass, determined to focus on the more serious emotions that the soon to be released inmate had touched upon.

 

“ All those things you are feeling are normal I promise you” she assured the younger woman.

 

“ Yeah? Do you always have this effect on women?” Franky chirped.

 

Bridget rolled her eyes at the younger woman causing Franky to laugh again. It was her own fault that the brunette was in full flirt mode but she really did want to address any concerns Franky may have about being released. It was important and she didn't want to fail the younger woman in a professional capacity just because she was head over heels for her.

 

“ Sorry” Franky conceded. “I will put my serious therapy face back on this one last time.”

 

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_**Franky POV** _

 

It was just after the final meal of the day and the blocks would be getting locked up within the next ten minutes. Ever since they had returned to H1 there had been a steady stream of women popping in to wish Franky luck and donate to H1's party fund that night. It was mainly packs of sweets, chocolate bars, crisps and a few cans of root beer.

 

The girls were all sat around the sofa's but there wasn't enough space for them all so Bea was sat on the back of the sofa with her legs jammed between Maxine and Boomer. Franky was sat on the very end of the sofa so she had a clear view of them all. Liz was up making cups of tea and steaming hot chocolate for them all.

 

There was a steady stream of chatter between the women as they sat. A lot of it involved them cooing at Doreen's baby who was being passed from Maxine to Boomer and back again. Franky had found it amazing over the last couple of weeks how much of their nightly conversations that one tiny human life could take up.

 

“ Who the fuck are you?” Bea loudly piped up when yet another inmate entered their block.

 

Franky turned her head to discover that it was the blonde girl she was chatting to in the kitchen the day before. It was Bea's biggest fan and she was currently stood, lays crisps in hand, brashly grinning at the top dog. Franky was half tempted to tell her to roll her tongue back into her fucking mouth.

“ Allie Novak” the girl introduced herself.

 

Bea looked like she was about to give the poor girl ninth degree so Franky shot to her feet and made her way over to the blonde. It wasn't until she reached Allie that the blonde refocused on her and not on checking out Bea fucking Smith.

 

“ I came to give you these Franky. I know we have barely met but you didn't have to be so cool with me after Kaz tried to bash you. So yeah...good luck.”

 

Allie handed over the crisps as she spoke. Franky thought it was a nice gesture from the friendly blonde and a good peace offering settle a group of women who would be inclined to be weary of her. Franky only hoped that she would be able to still remain neutral when Kaz and the other women in her crew were inevitably released from the slots.

 

“ Thanks” she said genuinely in response.

 

Allie smiled before taking one lingering look back in Bea Smith's direction. Franky smirked and winked at the blonde so the younger woman knew she had been caught out stirring causing her to blush slightly. Allie turned on her heels and strolled out as brashly as she had entered. The blonde reminded Franky of herself a little so was inclined to like her.

 

As soon as Franky turned back to the others she sought out Bea. The top dog's eyes seemed to follow the jovial blonde inmate out with a mixture of suspicion and interest and Franky couldn't help but smile.

 

“ What?” Bea asked when she noticed the younger woman's expression.

 

Franky just shook her head in response. She didn't want to prejudice Allie's chances by telling the top dog that the blonde was in to her. It didn't look like Bea was going to let it pass but luckily before Bea could quiz her further there was the sound of heels clipping up behind her. Franky would recognise that walk anywhere and she swung around again to find herself face to face with Bridget Westfall.

 

Bridget was now wearing a fitted black jacket over that fabulous white silk blouse Franky had been admiring in their session earlier. Bridget Westfall was stunning and Franky was entranced by her every single time she saw her.

 

“ G'd evening ladies” the psychologist greeted them all.

 

Bridget lifted her hands in the air to reveal two large bottles of coca cola. The blonde smirked at Franky and stepped passed her, brushing their shoulders together as she went. The inmate dutifully followed her over to the coffee table were Bridget set the bottles down. Bridget then glanced over her shoulder to check there were no guards lingering outside before turning back to the women.

 

“ I may have laced them with vodka” the blonde winked as she spoke. “Just don't fucking tell anyone on me alright!”

 

Every single inmates face brightened at the mention of booze and Boomer leapt to her feet in excitement. Franky snorted with laughter as the tall boisterous woman grasped Bridget's hands across the coffee table, nearly pulling her over the furniture in the process.

 

“ Miss Westfall you are a fucking legend!” Boomer declared.

 

Most people would be within their rights to be intimidated or scared by an inmate acting like that but the psychologist looked amused and a little bit pleased. Franky knew Bridget was taking a bit of a risk sneaking them booze but they were unlikely to get caught out or drunk on a bit of vodka and if anyone did notice they could just claim one of the women left it for Franky as a gift. It wasn't uncommon for alcohol to make its way in and usually the guards turned a blind eye. Better the odd bottle of whisky than drugs after all.

 

“ Why thank you” Bridget replied brightly.

 

Boomer released her with a sheepish expression on her face. The inmate had the good sense to grab the bottles and put them on the floor by her and Maxine's feet so they were hidden by the coffee table.

“ Cheers” Franky thanked the older the woman when Bridget glanced her way.

 

The other women all echoed the sentiment and Bridget threw them all one last grin before turning away. Franky watched her walk away, desperate to go after her so she could see her for a little longer. The guards would be there to lock them in any second now though and Franky didn't want any questions to be asked if Bridget was lingering in H1 when they arrived.

 

So Franky watched her go, allowing herself to enjoy the confident way Bridget swung her hips as she walked. It wasn't until Liz thrust a cup of steaming cocoa into her hands that Franky drew her attention back to the other women.

 

“ You've got a good one there love” Liz commented fondly as she patted Franky on her elbow.

 

The brunette froze and looked at the block's matriarch figure. It felt risky enough that Bea knew and that Boomer had guessed but it now seemed that all the women in H1 had guessed there was something between them.

 

“ I don't know what you...” Franky began to protest.

 

It wasn't that she didn't trust Liz because as a general rule she trusted no one more. Part of her was weary that Liz could say something if she got hooked on the booze again. Pissed Liz had a tendency to let her mouth run if she was feeling pushed or threatened. If Bridget was to get sacked again because of her or in serious trouble it would be Franky's worst nightmare.

 

“ Of course you don't” Liz chuckled.

 

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It was nearly midnight when they all started giving up and going to bed. Doreen had gone at around ten because she needed to settle the baby down. Liz had followed about an hour later which left Franky, Boomer, Bea and Maxine for the last hour. Maxine and Bea were now making their escape. Boomer on the other hand didn't seem ready to stop just yet.

 

It had been a good night and they were all thoroughly full of junk food and very mildly tipsy. They had had the radio on full blast despite the odd protest from the guards and there had been laughing and terrible dancing especially when 'eighties hour' had been on. However, Franky was sure that if they didn't pipe the fuck down soon then one of the night shift guards was going to lose their rag and write them up or even worse slot them. Franky wasn't getting her parole revoked for the sake of a couple more very dodgy old songs.

 

“ Come on Booms we need to shut this off now!” she declared.

 

The other inmate pouted in protest but allowed Franky to turn the music right down to mute before turning it off completely. Franky actually quite fancied going to bed too and getting a good night’s sleep but with Boomer looking so put out it didn't look like that was going to happen.

“ Come on Booms don't sulk” Franky pleaded, “we can sit and chat for a bit...I just don't want some dick of a guard losing his shit on us.”

 

This seemed to placate the other inmate and she slung herself down on the larger sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table. Liz would kill her if she saw her but Franky let it slide. She sat down on the other sofa and swung her legs up onto the sofa so she was lay across it. It was quiet at first and the bigger woman looked as though she was deep in thought.

 

“ You gonna be okay?” Boomer asked suddenly. It was a serious switch of topic after a jovial night and it caught Franky off guard.

 

“ Me? yeah...” she replied; “Are you?”

 

Franky had a flat to go too, a bit of money stored away and the beautiful and rather amazing Bridget Westfall to look forward to. The rest of it, getting a job and all that, was a little terrifying but she had it better than a lot of the women who got paroled. In truth she was more worried about Boomer and how she would cope without her. Even though they had fallen out for a while Franky had still been there and would have tried to stop her making stupid decisions. She knew Maxine and Boomer had formed a solid friendship though and Maxine was a calm head.

 

“ I'm gonna miss ya but you're not allowed to come back either...you're better than this fucking place” Boomer instructed her.

 

Franky smiled at her friend and nodded. She had no intention of ever coming back. Wentworth had certainly been effective at making her not want to ever re-offend. The politics of the place was poisonous and it was impossible to survive and flourish without at least some brutality. It was hell contained inside concrete lined walls and twelve foot high fences.

 

“ We all are” Franky agreed.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

_ Author’s Note - Next Chapter is Franky's release so there is just two more chapters after this one. I'm determined to find some time to finish this off quickly especially as we all need a happy ending after the shit they are pulling with Fridget at the moment. _

  
  
  



	21. Chapter 21

** Tempus Fugit **

** Chapter 21 **

 

“ _ I'm gonna miss ya but you're not allowed to come back either...you're better than this fucking place” Boomer instructed her. _

 

_ Franky smiled at her friend and nodded. She had no intention of ever coming back. Wentworth had certainly been effective at making her not want to ever re-offend. The politics of the place was poisonous and it was impossible to survive and flourish without at least some brutality. It was hell contained inside concrete lined walls and twelve foot high fences. _

 

“ _We all are” Franky agreed._

 

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**Bridget waits in her porche boxster which she still can't quite believe she bought just to make Franky’s fantasy a reality. Franky sees her in the car park and they kiss.**

 

_** Franky POV ** _

 

Dressing in her civies had been a curious experience after an extended period of time wearing the teal of Wentworth. She had been floating along in a dream like state for the past few days but now it felt like it was actually real. She was being released. She was going to be free. 

 

The outfit she had to wear consisted of skinny blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a red and black chequered shirt and black jacket. She checked herself out in the mirror and was pleased with the results. It was nothing flash but she looked a damn site better than she normally did in those standard prison joggers. The few things she was taking with her were flung in a small sports back pack which she slung over her left shoulder. Franky stepped outside into the corridor where Mr Jackson was waiting for her. 

 

“Looking good Doyle” he greeted her.

 

“Thanks Mr Jackson” she replied warmly.

 

He had always been the most decent of the officers and he could have nailed her into this place for another twenty years if he had wanted to. Most would have reported her on finding out she had accidently killed their wife. He had chosen not to. 

 

Mr Jackson began to lead the way towards the exit into the walkway by the courtyard. She had peered out from the courtyard through the mesh fencing at officers or visit o rs going home every day and many a time she had watched with envy as another inmate made parole. There had been a while when she had stopped believing she would ever get to make the walk herself. Then came along a fiery blonde psychologist who made her believe in herself and gave her the hope and a reason to fight. 

 

The prison officer swiped his card across the sensor and the door opened to reveal a bright and sunny day. He stepped back and allowed her to walk out first into the walkway. She heard his footsteps behind her and the door close again but she was more focused on the courtyard to the side of her. Loads of the women were stood there waiting for her, most stood back out of the way but the women from H1 were stood closest to the fence. 

 

Liz was stood the nearest to her and was pressed up against the mesh. It must be hard for Liz to see her go after getting paroled herself but then fucking it up. Franky remembered being on the opposite side and saying goodbye to the older woman.

 

“Next time you get out, stay out” Franky instructed Liz after stopping to face her.

 

“I will” the blonde promised.

 

It was all too serious and Franky needed a bit of levity right now. Her adrenaline was high and she knew there were tougher goodbyes to come. Boomer was lingering just a few feet down the fence line. 

 

“Ya fuckin' alco” Franky joked at the woman standing opposite causing her to chuckle.

 

“Ya fuckin' lezzo” Liz fired back. “Bugger off.”

 

Franky grinned and moved down the fencing, trying to hold all the emotion in that was building as she approached Boomer. The other woman looked like she was about to cry though and that made Franky struggle to hold it it. Silent tears streamed down both their faces.

 

“I fuckin' love ya” Franky declared. 

 

The huge inmate was even more rubbish at expressing emotions in words than Franky and today was no different. So Boomer nodded in response acknowledging that she knew and loved Franky as a friend too. No more words needed to be said really, not after they had sat and had a long chat the night before. So Franky moved on down the walkway.

 

Bea and Maxine were stood slightly further away from the fence line but when Franky stopped in front of them the top dog took a step towards her. 

 

“So you made it” Bea stated.

 

“It looks like it” Franky agreed.

 

There had been a stage a few weeks before when it looked like Franky's preminition of leaving in a box was going to be true. The reason she wasn't was stood right in front of her. Bea had run back into the fire and rescued her and Bea had spent the last week or so snarling at anyone who so much as looked at Franky. They had once nearly fought each other to the death and now somehow they were firm friends. It was a funny old world.

 

“Why do I feel like crying?” the top dog asked. There was mirth in her voice but it was obviously a serious question. 

 

Franky was half tempted to suggest it was relief that she would be leaving but it was too glorious an opportunity not to make a long held joke between them. It was even more amusing to Franky now that Allie Novak was clearly on the prowl for some lesbian loving from Bea.

 

“It's cause you want me!” the brunette quipped.

 

Bea shook her head and laughed but didn't bother arguing. Franky thought it was probably out of politeness rather that an admittance of guilt. She was still convinced that Bea at least found her a little hot but was just in denial.

 

Franky glanced back towards Boomer, Liz and Doreen who was lingering back a little with the pram. With Kaz now at Wentworth things could get tough. It was all on Bea now to manage that threat and keep their friends safe.

 

“Look after them” she pleaded.

 

“Always” Bea instantly responded. There was a pause as the two just smiled at one another before Bea spoke up again.

 

“Don't fuck up...off you go” the top dog ordered.

 

Franky took a step back away from the fence. In truth she had lingered a little because the next bit...actually leaving...was still quite terrifying. However as she stepped back and looked out across the courtyard that feeling started to swing towards excitement again. Franky couldn't resist one final parting shot at the correctional centre that had come so close to breaking her and killing her.

 

“Fuck this place” she raised her arms and called out.

 

A loud cheer went up from the women and as Franky looked over them one last time she noticed Miss Bennett stood watching her from across the other side of the courtyard. The acting Governor was stood very still but had a slight smile on her face. When there eyes met Franky nodded at the officer, acknowledging how much she had gone out of her way to get the new parole date sorted. Miss Bennett mirrored Franky's action with her own nod and a slightly wider smile. The brunette was slightly surprised that Bridget wasn't stood with the acting Governor but perhaps she was caught up with an inmates session. It hardly mattered when they would be meeting up later.

 

She felt a guiding hand on her elbow and allowed Mr Jackson to gently direct her towards the gate out of the walkway. It slid open, grating across the metal runners. It was a sound Franky had always thought synonomous with freedom after hearing it so many times as others left. She found herself in a part of the prison she had never seen before. It was a square area with a guards post between the gate to the walkway and the gate to the car park and road. She could see all the tarmac and cars through the thick mesh. Her parole officer had explained that if she walked to the end of that road there was a small bus terminal that had buses that went all over the city. Franky could catch one there that stopped only a couple of blocks away from her flat.

 

Mr Jackson nodded to the guard who then swiped his ID against the gates sensor. The gates started to open slowly, lumbering at a strained pace compared to the external gates due to their larger size. As soon as they were open Franky stepped outside into her freedom.

 

She spared a moment to look back and smile at Mr Jackson as the gates started to close again. Once they were shut over Franky began what she expected to be a long walk down the road. That really didn't matter though because she was fucking free. She was practically swaggering past the car park. 

 

Franky had virtually reached the end of the parked cars when a horn blared out to her right. It was too well timed not to be done to catch her attention and it only made sense for one person to be waiting for her... yet that person was meant to be at work in the building Franky had just vacated. Somehow Franky just knew though that the person waiting for her was none other than Bridget Westfall...and she couldn't suppress a huge beaming smile.

 

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_** Bridget POV ** _

 

Bridget had quietly vacated the building about thirty minutes before Franky was due to leave. That had meant that none of the women had gathered in the yard yet to say goodbye so she slipped out relatively unnoticed. It also meant she had completed a half day exactly so looked less suspicious to the guards.

 

She had cleaned her ridiculously expensive new black Porsche Boxter inside and out the night before even though it was still pretty much spotless. Bridget had only driven it a few times since the day she had originally come to pick up Franky, preferring to use her old run around for work so she didn't attract to much attention. She had taken the Porsche for a few drives in the evenings to keep the engine turning over. It had also been something of a distraction from Franky although not much of one considering she had bought it because of her.

 

It had been a rather expensive purchase just to enact the brunettes fantasy exit from Wentworth Correctional Centre. In fact she could still barely believe she had actually gone out and bought it and it had been weeks now. At least Franky got her hot car and part of the prison had burnt down. Bridget wasn't sure that she completely satisfied Franky's desire to be picked up by a 'hot girl'...she was more of a desirable older woman. Still, she knew Franky was as attracted to her as she was to the younger woman.

 

Bridget had checker her make-up and hair in the rear view mirror, and pulled the roof down of the car. It was a beautiful sunny day so they might as well enjoy the fact she had chosen the convertible model. She had even managed to a swift change in the seat of the car so she wasn't wearing any of her standard work clothes. Franky would be in civvies after all so it seemed inappropriate for Bridget to wearing something the brunette had seen her wearing in Wentworth. So instead of a skirt and loose black blouse she was now wearing dark blue skinny jeans that fitted her figure perfectly with black knee high boots. On her top half she wore a fitted white t shirt that had a slightly plunging neckline...just enough to reveal a a glimpse of cream lace, and a black leather jacket.

 

So now she was sat in the front seat waiting for Franky to appear from behind the trees that split the part of the car park Bridget was in from the one nearer the back entrance to the prison. Despite the fact that it was only a five minute wait by the time the psychologist had gotten changed it felt like it was dragging on forever. She was just as nervous as the first time which was silly considering she had seen Franky the day before. Last time they hadn't seen each other since the parole hearing and they hadn't been able to even talk to the other. They hadn't really spoken properly about feelings so it was all a huge risk. This time Bridget was sure they were both on the same page. Yet she still had the same butterflies in her stomach.

 

Finally a familiar figure came into view. Franky may be wearing jeans and a chequered shirt rather than the teal but there was no mistaking her swaggering walk. Bridget waited for the younger woman to get in line with the car, enjoying the chance to admire Franky unabashedly for the first time. When the former inmate was directly in front of her Bridget finally sounded the cars horn.

 

There was a moment when time felt like it stood still as Franky crashed to a halt. Then slowly she turned in Bridget's direction with the most open and beautiful smile on her face that Bridget had ever witnessed. Then when she caught sight of the car Bridget was sat in the younger woman's eyes went wide.

 

The psychologist opened the driver side door and stepped out, closing the door behind her, before leaning back against the car. Franky was striding across the gap towards her with a real purpose. Despite the fact the younger woman seemed to be moving quickly time seemed to stand still as Bridget waited. Finally Franky was stood directly in front her, a sexy and confident smile playing across her features.

 

“Come here” Franky commanded as soon as she halted.

 

Bridget didn't have time to respond before the brunette reached for her, cupping the back of Bridget's head and pulling her in for a deep but lazy kiss. Bridget grasped at the younger woman’s arms and twisted them around so that Franky now had her back pressed against the Porsche. Their bodies were pressed tight against each other as they continued to slowly explore each others mouths.

 

They had kissed before but this was different. There had been a desperation before and their kisses had been an overspilling of emotion that they could no longer contain. This kiss was marking a change in their relationship. It was a celebration not only of Franky's freedom but also a celebration of their relative freedom as a couple. Franky seemed to be enjoying their freedom and with her free hand the younger woman patted Bridget's bum.

 

The blonde giggled as they broke apart and Franky grinned like a cat who had got the cream. Bridget tried to commit every detail of Franky's expression and the moment in general to memory. It felt utterly and completely perfect.

 

“One hot car” the psychologist quipped, petitioning towards the black convertible. The younger woman tipped her head back and laughed.

 

“Really fucking hot woman” Franky played along before turning serious suddenly. “You look so stunning...I don't know what I have done to deserve you.”

 

Bridget wasn't sure how to answer the younger woman. She had learnt long ago that only part of life happened because you earned or worked for it and the rest just occurred around you, the good and the bad. Most of Franky's early years had spun out of her control and it all stemmed from things that were pre ordained for her. Yet because of this they had met and against all odds Bridget had fell hopelessly in love with the brunette. She wasn't sure if she believed in fate but if it existed then they were fated.

 

“How much did it cost to hire this?” Franky changed the subject. The brunette patted the car as she spoke.

 

“I erm...had a mad moment a bought it” the older woman admitted.

 

Franky's expression was priceless. The brunette did a double take and her mouth fell open, then she looked at the car again as if she was making sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her...it really was a Porsche Boxter.

 

“Fuckin' hell Gidget!” the younger woman exclaimed.

 

“Yes that’s what my savings account said too” Bridget quipped nervously.

 

The blonde felt a little self conscious that she was privileged enough to be able to just go out and buy a sports car just to impress someone. Franky had lived a very different childhood to her and had never known real parental love or the kind of financial security Bridget had enjoyed. The younger woman didn't seem put out or perturbed by the purchase though, just amused and a little impressed by Bridget's attempts to make her fantasy happen.

 

“Should we get out of here?” the psychologist asked.

 

“Fuck yes” the brunette instantly replied.

 

Bridget had no idea were Franky would want to go first. Would she still want to go for that coffee or for lunch? Would she want Bridget to take her to her new flat so she could get settled in? Would she want to come back to Bridget's own home for the afternoon and evening? Bridget knew what option she would prefer. Ever since their opportunistic liaison in the store room the blonde hadn't been able to think about much else other than what it would be like to have Franky to herself in her own bedroom to leisurely do what she liked with. However Franky's mind was bound to be all over the place today and she might need some time to adjust to being outside of the correctional facilities walls. 

 

“Where too?” Bridget inquired as they both got into the car. 

 

Franky rested her cheek against the seat of the car as she gazed at Bridget from the passenger side. Her expression was hopeful but slightly nervous. 

 

“Would it be okay if we went to your house and maybe ordered some food in later?” the younger woman asked. 

 

Her voice didn't hold its normal confidence which wasn't a surprise considering she was now probably treading on totally new ground. Bridget knew that Franky had never been in a serious romantic relationship before so underneath the smiles and the swagger the brunette would be at least a little terrified.

 

“Anything you want baby” Bridget assured her. 

 

It was true. Bridget was sure she would do anything Franky asked right now if it made her happy. The use of a term of endearment brought the return of the megawatt smile to the younger woman's face but at the same time her eyes seemed to darken and dilate.

 

“I want you” Franky stated, her voice tinted with lust. 

 

Bridget felt a sharp spike in her own arousal and she started the engine of the Porsche up instantly. It was nearly thirty minutes to her house. It was likely to be the longest thirty minutes of her life.

 

 

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_ Author’s Note - Next Chapter is the final chapter. It's only taken me nearly two years to complete :/ _   
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Tempus Fugit**

**Chapter 22**

 

“ _Where to?” Bridget inquired as they both got into the car._

 

_Franky rested her cheek against the seat of the car as she gazed at Bridget from the passenger side. Her expression was hopeful but slightly nervous._

 

“ _Would it be okay if we went to your house and maybe ordered some food in later?” the younger woman asked._

 

_Her voice didn't hold its normal confidence which wasn't a surprise considering she was now probably treading on totally new ground. Bridget knew that Franky had never been in a serious romantic relationship before so underneath the smiles and the swagger the brunette would be at least a little terrified._

 

“ _Anything you want baby?” Bridget assured her._

 

_It was true. Bridget was sure she would do anything Franky asked right now if it made her happy. The use of a term of endearment brought the return of the megawatt smile to the younger woman's face but at the same time her eyes seemed to darken and dilate._

 

“ _I want you” Franky stated, her voice tinted with lust._

 

_Bridget felt a sharp spike in her own arousal and she started the engine of the Porsche up instantly. It was nearly thirty minutes to her house. It was likely to be the longest thirty minutes of her life._

 

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_**Franky POV** _

 

Bridget pulled into the drive of a good sized modern bungalow with a double garage and a small and neatly kept front garden. It was nothing like the home Franky had been brought up in but it was the sort of home she had pictured Bridget owning. The blonde picked up a remote from her dashboard and pressed a button. The garage door nearest the house began to slowly raise to reveal garage space with organised shelving across the back wall.

 

“Home sweet home” Bridget said with a smile as she crept forward in first gear into the space.

 

The journey to Bridget's house had felt slightly surreal, like a realistic dream, rather than reality. The half an hour drive had been spent conversing about how Vera Bennett and Bea Smith had conspired to give Bridget the afternoon off and about Franky's leaving bash the night before.

 

Bridget had kept her eyes on the road unless they were stopped at lights which had given Franky the opportunity to look and admire the blonde. In Wentworth she had to be subtle unless they were alone together or she would have left them both vulnerable to comments from other inmates and officers. There was only so much staring she could do during her sessions with Bridget though as they were conversing, often about uncomfortable topics. Gazing at Bridget Westfall in profile felt like a religious experience to Franky. She had seen many beautiful women over the years and had many beautiful women but there was something about Bridget that made her stand out as being utterly stunning. There was an emotion behind the attraction that was foreign to the younger woman.

 

“Come on I'll show you around” Bridget gently encouraged her.

 

The blonde turned her head and smiled warmly in Franky's direction. It was a look that made Franky feel like her insides had gone to hot lava. Bridget reached out to open the driver side door but Franky grasped the hand nearest to her to keep Bridget in place a moment longer. There was so much she wanted to say to her hot girl in a hot car.

 

“I...” she stumbled over the right words to say. I love you was on the tip of her tongue but it was still a scary prospect, giving herself over like that to someone else. Bridget still gazed at her fondly, apparently unperturbed by the younger woman's inability to spit out her thoughts.

 

“You mean everything to me” Franky settled on saying.

 

It wasn't quite the bold declaration she had intended but it was enough to draw a huge toothy grin from the psychologist. It was likely Bridget knew exactly what she wanted to say anyway.

 

“Good” Bridget smirked; “because you mean everything to me too.”

 

Franky could feel her heartbeat quicken at Bridget's words and heat spread across her cheeks. She was blushing. She never blushed! Franky ducked her head to try and hide her rosy cheeks but it was too late, Bridget had already seen them. The blonde squeezed their entwined hands and winked.

 

“C'mon” Bridget instructed.

 

Franky released the other woman's hand and climbed out the passenger door, walking around the front of the Boxter to meet Bridget by the driver's door.

 

Bridget grasped her hand again and led them toward the entrance of the garage. Once they had stepped back onto the driveway Bridget closed the garage door and let Franky up the steps of the front veranda. It was a nice space which would obviously catch the afternoon sun, hence the comfortable bench seat that was located just to the side of the door. Franky waited patiently as the older woman unlocked the door and let them into the front hall of the house.

 

“The kitchen, dining and living area is all open plan” Bridget explained as they made there way down the small hall.

 

It opened out into a large open plan room just as Bridget had described. It was well organised, tidy and simply decorated. It was modern with sharp clean lines, the kind of style Franky had expected from the psychologist. There was a large comfortable leather with an equally large plasma screen tv, a surround sound music system, a large wooden dining table that Franky planned to put to good use at some point and a well stocked looking kitchen that Franky couldn't wait to impress the blonde with her cooking in. Bridget shed her bag and car keys whilst Franky was gazing around the room.

 

“I love it” the younger woman complimented.

 

Bridget grinned broadly and grasped the lapels of Franky's coat, pulling her in for a soft and slow kiss. The brunette responded instantly and grasped the older woman's hips to draw her in ever closer, running her tongue across Bridget's lower lip and deepening the kiss. Up until this point the former inmate had been in a sort of daze since her release but the fire that kiss was starting to ignite cleared her thoughts. She was free, and she was with Bridget Westfall and finally able to spend time ravishing her.

 

“You gonna show me your bedroom Gidge?” she asked as they broke the kiss.

 

The blonde's pupils were wider and darker than usual as she gazed at Franky. The younger woman could see how much Bridget wanted her too. In the dark of the store room during the riot she hadn't been able to see or cherish such moments so she allowed herself a few moments to bask under the blonde's attention before reaching out her hand and grasping the other woman's.

 

Bridget took the hint and began to lead Franky down a wider hall leading left. On one side there were two doors that Bridget ignored, taking Franky straight to the door on the left about half way along. As soon as she opened the door to reveal a large bedroom with a huge bed and french windows Franky tugged the older woman back towards her so she could kiss her again.

 

Bridget seemed to melt into the kiss, grasping at Franky's hair and scraping her nails across the brunette's scalp. The younger woman practically growled in response to the sensation. She hooked her arms under Bridget's bum and lifted her up so the blonde wrapped her legs and arms around her.

 

“Fucking hell Franky!” Bridget giggled as the brunette carried her into the bedroom and towards the bed.

 

 

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_**Bridget POV** _

 

Bridget had held no preconceptions of how Franky would react to finally being free, nor how she would want to spend her first afternoon and evening. The blonde had made no plans and even when Franky had asked had asked to go to Bridget's home in a way that suggested they would spend the afternoon in bed together she had known it could all change as the younger woman tried to adapt to the change.

So it was extremely pleasant when she found herself being lifted in the brunette's arms after a very passionate kiss and carried towards her bed.

 

Considering how vigerously the younger woman had lifted and carried her Bridget was amazed how gently she was placed down on top of the covers. She felt utterly mind blown as Franky hovered over her, gazing down at her like she was the most precious and important thing that the brunette had ever laid eyes on. Their hot and desperate fumble in the dark during the riot had been gratifying but hadn't sated Bridget's need to really be with Franky. She hadn't been able to see the brunette for a start and it had been rushed with no time to savour the moment. Now they were together in her home and her bed with hours before Franky had to be back at her own apartment.

 

Bridget reached up and traced her forefinger along the younger woman's jaw line before cupping her cheek and tugging her down for a firm and loving kiss. Franky kissed her back keenly and Bridget used the opportunity to roll them, catching the younger woman by surprise, so she was now straddling Franky. As they broke the kiss Bridget grabbed the bottom of her own t-shirt and pulled it up over her head. She flung it to the side of the bed. Franky's hands were instantly on her, spreading across her abdomen and the soft ticklish skin there.

 

“Fuck you are so perfect Gidge” the brunette complimented.

 

Bridget was enjoying Franky's eager hands and expression so she reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her black lace bra. Slowly, under the younger woman's admiring gaze, she let the straps fall from her shoulders before removing the item of underwear completely and tossing it in the same direction as her top.

 

Franky's hands were instantly cupping the exposed flesh and the brunette ran her thumbs across Bridget's already hardening nipples. The psychologist moaned under her administrations which drew a low growl from the other woman. Bridget needed and wanted more. More contact. More skin. More of Franky Doyle. The blonde pushed Franky's hands away and grasped the edges of the younger woman's shirt. Franky propped herself up to allow Bridget room to pull the top off. She still had her black t-shirt on underneath but Franky seemed more interested in touching the blonde again. The older woman gently battled her hands away again.

 

“Off...I need it all off” Bridget insisted; “I want to be able to see and touch every inch of you.”

 

She grasped the bottom of the t-shirt which had started riding up the brunette's stomach and pulled it up and off in one fluid movement. Straight away she unclasped the younger woman's vibrant lime green bra with one hand and flung it across the room. The act would have been worthy of bragging but she was too interested in what she had exposed. Bridget knew all about Franky's scars on her abdomen and about the elaborate blossom tattoo that utilized them. It was written about in great detail in Franky's Wentworth file but the psychologist had never actually seen them.

 

Now Bridget allowed herself a little time to take in the old wounds that had helped shape the younger woman into the beautiful fighter she had grown in to. The blonde reached down and traced up the bough of tattoo and across the branches. The lines were smooth so the scar tissue which made up the blossom of the tree were easily discernable. Franky didn't say anything, merely watching the older woman explore. Once the blonde had traced every part of the tattoo with her fingers she dipped down, now straddling the other woman's legs, and began to trace it again with her tongue.

 

Franky writhed under her mouth which increased Bridget's desire even further. She moved up, focussing her attention on the brunette's breasts. She licked, sucked and nipped at one before moving on to the next, loving every single moan and whimper that Franky released.

 

The brunette reached down between them and began fumbling with the button of Bridget's jeans. The older woman was happy to comply and began unclasping Franky's jeans too. Somehow, between them, they managed to remove each others jeans without changing position. All that was left between them now was Franky's colourful underwear and Bridget's skimpy lace. The blonde rolled her hips against Franky's, creating a delishious pressure.

 

“Off” the younger woman growled; tugging at the top of Bridget's black lace underwear.

 

The blonde didn't have to be asked twice and raised her hips so Franky could push the underwear down her legs. Bridget kicked them off the rest of the way before grasping the younger woman's underwear ad slowly tugging them down. She followed the path of the underwear with her mouth, kissing the softskin of Frank's thighs and the inside of her calves.

 

She kissed her way back up, nipping her hip bone as she continued up Franky's body and back to her mouth. Bridget wanted to taste Franky but there would be time for that later. For now she wanted to watch her whilst she made love to her. So, whilst straddling the brunette's left leg, she reached down with her right hand and stroked through the copious wetness between Franky's legs. The brunette raised her hips of the bed and moaned at the contact. Bridget watched in awe as Franky slammed her shut closed and gasped as she slip one finger inside her and then another.

 

The blonde was in no rush and set a slow but firm rhythm. She pressed as deep as her fingers would allow, moving her fingers in a come hither motion before slowly pulling back so only her tips were inside the younger woman. Then she would thrust deep inside again, eliciting a moan from Franky every time. The brunette looked stunning when she was in the throws of pleasure.

 

“Is this okay?” Bridget checked.

 

The brunette certainly looked and sounded like she was enjoying herself but Bridget wanted to be sure she wouldn't prefer it harder and faster. She wanted to give Franky exactly what she needed....in everything really, not just the bedroom.

 

“Slow is good...fuck...slow is good” Franky gasped.

 

Bridget kissed her as soon as she finished speaking. It wasn't the most elegant of kisses as Franky was focussed on other sensations but it was full of need and desire. As soon as the kiss broke Franky stopped clinging on to Bridget's shoulders with her both hands and reached down between their bodies. Bridget had only just realised what was about to happen when Franky thrust two fingers inside her, using her thigh to give her finger some force despite being on her back under the blonde.

 

“Oh...yes” Bridget called out.

 

At first Franky matched her rhythm but as they both got closer they both naturally began to move harder and faster. The blonde tried to keep her eyes open as much as possible to watch the younger woman but it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate on anything other than Franky's fingers inside her. Bridget could feel the brunette's walls beginning to grip harder at her own fingers and she was struggling to barely hold on herself.

 

“I'm so close Franky” she moaned into the brunette's ear.

 

Her words tipped Franky over the edge and the brunette dug her fingernails into Bridget's back as she came hard. The sharp sting and brunette's orgasm was enough to tip Bridget over the edge too. She collapsed down on top of the brunette, hot and sweaty, as they both waited for the waves of pleasure to pass. Once her body was still and extremely relaxed Bridget rolled off the younger woman so they were lying side by side panting for breath.

 

“Wow that was intense” Bridget gasped as they clasped hands.

 

Franky chuckled at first but then after a few seconds she rolled over so she was leaning over the blonde and placed a kiss on her nose. Bridget grinned and was rewarded with a dazzling toothy smile from the younger woman.

 

“Oh you ain't seen nothing yet Gidge” Franky promised. “I am going to rock your world.”

 

 

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_**Franky POV** _

 

Franky was confused when she first began to wake up. Wentworth beds had a certain feel to them with their firm mattresses and cheap bedding. This was not a Wentworth bed. It was warm with satin sheets and a mattress that felt like you were lying on a cloud. The room smelt of vanilla, sex and Bridget Westfall.

 

The events of that day came flooding back to her and Franky opened her eyes immediately. The source of the warmth was the sleeping psychologist who lay right behind her spooning her. Franky couldn't remember ever having woke up with someone wrapped around her before. It had never appealed before as she liked her personal space but being curled up with Bridget felt wonderful and right.

 

She rolled in the bed to face the blonde. According to the alarm clock behind the psychologist it was nearly 8pm which meant Franky had to get up very soon. She had to be at her new flat by 9pm or her parole officer would be round in the morning giving her hell.

 

More than anything she wished she could stay the night in Bridget's arms but this was enough for now. After a few weeks she'd be allowed to stay out occasionally without her parole officer batting an eyelid. She could be patient if the reward was the most amazing and stunning woman she had ever met. Franky was completely and utterly head over heels with her. One day very soon she would hopefully find the courage to tell her that. For now she would stick to just trying to show Bridget at every available opportunity.

 

 

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_**Author’s Note – That's all folks. It took me two years and two season's to complete because life kept getting in the way but I hoped you enjoyed it. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, liked or followed Tempus Fugit. You all gave me the will power to keep going and you are fuckin' amazin' ;-) xxx** _

 

 

  
  


 


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